p!^!?:E  10  CENTS 


^fcite 


!ES;0f  J\pYENtURE^M\l^^:M)NIOhJ 


VOL.  7. 


Phil  thp  ^rniit-'^f'  *  f'S'^"'^^  Beaurejarfs  Dispatcli 

I      Mill   IIIC    UUUUll  BY    CAPTAIN     ILIAN    VERNE. 


es 


Phil  Lamonte,  the  Union  scout,  capturing  the  Confederate  dispatch-bearer. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


PHIL,  THE  SCOUT ; 

A  Fight  for  Beauregard's  Dispatches 

A  Lively  Story  of  Shiloh's  Bloody  Field. 

BY   CAPTAIN   ILIEN   VERNE.     ■ 


CHAPTER 


A  stormy  night  in  Western  T 

Desolate  though  the  scene  was  and  full  of 
evil  suggestions,  on  this  night  a  man  was 
crouching  iu  the  shadows  ot  the  low  grow- 
ing trees  surrounding  a  handsome  Southern 
residence. 

He  had  been  an  hour  in  making  his  way 
up  from  the  highway,  which  stretched, 
heavy  and  black,  toward  the  Tennessee 
River,  for  iu  every  direction  about  the 
building  ran  the  beats  of  vigilant  rebel  senti- 
nels, guarding  the  quarters  of  Colonel  Font- 
neroy. 

Now  flat  on  his  face,  crawling  over  the 
cold  wet  grass,  now  dashing  quickly  across 
a  narrow  opening,  and  now  dodging  into  the 
shade  of  some  dense  growth  of  shrubbery, 
the  bird  of  the  tempest  had  finally  reached  a 
point  from  which,  by  extreme  care,  he  could 
peer  through  the  window,  half  hidden  by  a 
thick  ivy-vine,  into  the  room  where  sat  the 
Confederate  colonel. 

As  he  pulls  aside  the  dripping  vine  the 
light  from  within  talis  for  an  instant  full  in 
his  face. 

It  is  that  of  a  man  who  has  been  hunting 
for  something  till  every  line  on  his  counten- 
ance is  plowed  deep  with   watchful  anxiety 


untiring    and 
„ravery  undaunted. 

Could  we  have  seen  his  entire  form  we 
would  mark  how  uncouth  yet  serviceable  was 
the  attire  he  wore;  how  unkempt  was  his 
whole  appearance,  like  that  of  one  whose 
own  hands  alone  performed  the  task  of  pre- 


face ijkwhich  may  be  traced  determ 
tion     unJfBlding,    vigil; —.>:-: 


As  this  singular  man  turned  his  gaze  upon 
the  face  of  Colonel  Fontneroy,  a  glare  came 
into  his  eyes  like  that  seen  in  those  of  a  beast 
hungry  for  prey,  and  a  smile  almost  ghastly 
in  its  hideousness  lighted  up  his  hard  feat- 
ures. 
Hark !    He  whispers ! 

"  Aha !  At  last,  at  last,  my  brave  colonel, 
1  have  found  you  !  Found  you !  Ay,  and 
to-night  shall  you  learn  ot  my  presence,  and 
know  that  my  vow  is  not  forgotten,  w^ill 
this  be  the  last  time  I  visit  you?  No;  I 
must  see  you  still  nearer;  must  meet  you 
face  to  face,  and  wriug  from  your  accursed 
lips  the  words  for  which  I  have  waited  so 
long.  And  yet,  may  not  my  waiting  for  this, 
cheat  me  of  my  purpose?  If  I  thought  it^ 
but  no;  it  shall  not  be  done  now.  I  will 
wait.  Justice  is  on  my  side.  Ha !  he  is  not 
alone.    Well,  it  matters  not." 

The  hand  of  the  stranger  sought  his  breast. 
A  moment  later  it  held  a  weapon  which 
glittered  in  the  lamp  light  as  it  shimmered 
through  the  damp  leaves. 

He  stroked  it  lovingly,  as  one  might  fondle 
a  child,  and  muttered  words  inaudible  to  all 
but  himself. 

Inside  that  room  the  rebel  colonel  had  sat 
alone  all  the  evening  long. 

His  pen  had  traced  page  after  page,  hur- 
riedly, till  there  lay  on  the  table  before  him 
a  pile  of  manuscript  wet  with  ink. 

Once  or  twice  the  door  had  opened  softly. 
An  inquiry  had  been  made,  and  an  answer 
given. 

When  the  hands  of  the  clock  on  the  man- 
jtel  denoted  ten  a  footstep  woke  the  colonel 
from  bis  labor. 

Looking  up  quickly  he  saw  a  fair  young 
lady,  with  eyes  and  hair  dark  as  midnight, 
and  lips  of  the  loveliest  red. 

"  Laura!"  he  exclaimed,  springing  up  and 
seizing  the  hand  she  extended  toward  him 
with  a  smile. 

"  Yes,  Laura,"  she  replied.  "  You  did  not 
txpect  me." 

"  Through  this  storm,  no.  Why  should  I  ? 
It  seems  almost  madness  in  you  to  attempt 
it.  See,  you  are  drenched  through  and 
through." 

He  lifted  her  cape,  which  was  indeed  wet, 
as  if  it  had  been  dipped  in  the  river. 

"  Pshaw !  What  care  I  for  such  a  storm  as 
this!  Why,  this  is  grand.  It  is  only  the 
lightning  which  makes  me  tremble.  When 
suob  t»mpests  come  I  hide  away  out  of  reach 
«t  tk«  Bleem  and  roar.    To-night  is  nothing. 


Fhy  I  have 


;  here 


Can    you    not  guess 
to-night?" 

There  was  something  in  the  tone  and  the 
look  which  made  the  heart  of  the  Confeder- 
ate officer  leap  madly.  ,     ,     ^ 

Well  did  he  know  what  had  brought 
Laura  Doane  thither  in  spite  of  night  and 
storm.  

"  I  can  guess,  Laura,"  be  said,  his  voice  as- 
suming a  gentler  tone.  "  But  don't  you  think 
it  a  great  deal  to  risk  ?  How  did  you  pass  the 
guard?" 

"I  had  some  trouble,  that  is  true.  Your 
men  hold  their  watch  over  you  well.  Colonel 
Fontneroy  must  be  much  beloved  by  them. 
It  was  only  by  producing  the  letter  you  sent 
me  last  that  I  was  allowed  to  come  withm 
the  lines.  You  remember  in  that  you  gave 
me  some  instructions  to  follow  in  case  I 
should  ever  want  to  come  here?" 

"  Did  I  ?    I  had  almost " 

"  Forgotten  it,  you  mean,"  interrupted  the 
girl,  seeing himhesitateforan  instant.  There 
was  a  tone  of  reproach  in  her  voice. 

"No— no;  I  did  not  mean  that;  but  you 
see  I  have  been  so  busy  of  late.  It  would  not 
be  surprising  if  some  things  did  escape  my 
memory,  would  it?" 

"If  you  are  satisfied  with  your  explanation, 
I  surely  ought  to  be.  You  men  do  not  think 
so  much  about  these  things  as  we  do." 

Laura  Doane  was  watching  the  face  of  her 
lover  closely.    Did  she  mistrust  him  ? 

We  shall  see. 

The  colonel  bit  his  lip. 

It  was  evident  that  he  felt  disturbed.  The 
girl  oame  to  the  rescue. 

"  But  your  letter  -erved  me  well.  It 
gained  me  entrance  here." 

"  And  you  bring  us  news." 

"No.  I  did  not  come  for  that.  There  is 
nothing  new  outside.  The  Union  troops  are 
resting  still.  When  they  do  strike,  the  blow 
will  be  terrible." 

"  Skeptical  as  ever  in  regard  to  the  justness 
of  our  cause,  I  see.  If  I  were  to  tell  you  that 
we  strike  first,  what  then  ?' 

"  Colonel  Fontneroy,  I  believe  that  right  is 
on  the  side  of  the  Confederates.  You  have 
not  heard  me  say  aught  to  the  contrary. 
What  I  do  say  is,  secession  never  will  prevail. 
It  becomes  more  and  more  evident  every 
hour.    Disaster  is  all  that  awaits  you." 

"  You  forget  that  our  people  are  becoming 
more  thoroughly  aroused  than  at  any  previ- 
ous time  since  the  war  opened.  When 
churches,  court  houses  and  every  public  in- 
stitution give  up  their  bells  for  use  in  found- 
ing cannon,  it  shows  that  the  hearts  of  our 
citizens  believe  in  rebellion,  and  will  stand 
by  it  to  the  last." 

"Yes,  I  remember  all  this;  but  let  me  ask 
if  that  metal  ever  reached  the  founderies  ? 
Y'ou  know,  as  well  as  1,  that  it  fell  at  once 
into  the  hands  ot  the  Unionists.  So  ends 
your  beautiful  illustration.  Night  rests 
with  the  North.  It  will  crush  out  this 
loyal,  patriotic  South.  Look  at  what  you 
have  just  lost  at  Fort  Donelson  and  Island 
Number  Ten  !  It  will  always  be  thus  here- 
after." 

The  Confederate  colonel  remained  silent 
for  a  moment. 

The  lefereuce  to  these  recent  disasters  to 
the  Confederate  arms  chafed  him. 

"  And  I  have  come  to-night  to  ask  you 
once  more  it  you  will  not  give  up  this  fight- 
ing.   It  IS  against  fate  and  against  reason." 

"Laura!" 

"  It  would  kill  me  if  anything  happened  to 
you.    I  know  it." 

There  shown  in  the  girl's  eyes  a  tender 
light  which  could  not  be  mistaken.  Inter- 
preting it,  the  Confederate  winced  and 
moved  in  his  chair  uneasily. 

Still  the  girl  bent  her  piercing  gaze  upon 
him. 

"  You  do  not  really  wish  me  to  stop  where 
I  am  now,  do  you  ?  I  have  great  hopes  for 
the  future." 

"  Hopes  greater  than  facts  warrant.  Don't 
think  I  want  to  blight  any  real  ambition  of 
yours.  Forgive  me,  won't  you,  for  saying 
this?  But  I  cannot  think  you  are  truly  de- 
sirous of  following  this  life.  If  it  should,  by 
any  chance,  lead  to  the  glory  you  dream  of, 
do  you  believe  it  would  satisfy  you  ?" 

"  You  have  too  many  questions  to-night, 
Laura,"  said  Fontneroy,  rising  hastily,  and 
beginning  to  pace  the  room.  "  I  can  state 
my  position  in  this  matter  very  briefly.  The 
South  has  right  on  its  side.  I  feel  that  I 
ought  to  do  all  I  can  to  aid  her  cause ;  and, 
God  helping  me,  I  will  not  swerve  from 
what  I  deem  a  duty." 

that  you  may  gratify  this  blind  ambition! 
Well,  it  may." 


"You  wrong  me;  I  do  not  forget  my 
friends.    I  think  of  you  often,  Laura." 

"  As  a  friend,  only  ?" 

It  was  wonderful  how  quickly  she  grasped 
at  every  word,  which  tended  to  show  that 
the  love  she  bore  him  was  not  fully  returned 
by  this  haughty  Southerner.  Her  passionate 
nature  demanded,  measure  for  measure,  the 
affection  she  gave.  And  it  was  evident  she 
would  brook  no  trifling. 

"  Laura,  dearest,  I  cannot  understand  why 
you  speak  thus,"  said  Fontneroy,  seeming 
to  throw  aside  all  restraints,  and  speaking  in 
a  different  manner  than  he  had  assumed  in 
the  course  of  the  interview.  "You  know  1 
look  upon  you  as  my  dearest  friend.  Don't 
pain  me  by  vour  unjust  words.  I  cannot  re- 
trace my  steps,  now  the  war  is  upon  us.  I 
hold  a  position  ot  trust,  and  would  be  a 
traitor  were  I  to  abandon  it.  I  am  sure  your 
prophecy  of  evil  will  not  be  fulfilled.  We 
now  have  on  foot  a  scheme,  the  issue  of 
which  will,  I  doubt  not,  turn  the  tide  in  our 
favor.  I  cannot  speak  further  of  our  plans, 
even  to  you  ;  but  I  ask  you  only  to  wait  pa- 
tiently a  few  days  longer  before;you  abandon 
hope  of  our  success." 

"  I  could  wait  forever  for  anything  you 
ask!"  the  girl  said,  as  she  lifted  the  hand  of 
the  Confederate  to  her  lips.  "  Perhaps  I  am 
down-hearted  to-night.  I  cannot  drive  away 
from  my  heart  the  feeling  that  harm  will 
come  to  you  if  you  do  not  let  war  go  and 
come  back  to  me." 

"  I  will  come  back  to  you  with  love  all  the 
stronger  for  waiting ;  and  I  can't  help  think- 
ing you  will  be  glad  to  share  the  glory  I  am 
winning,  too,  by  and  by." 

•'Give  me  the  love  and  you  may  keep  the 
glory!"  said  the  girl,  gently,  as   she  rested 
her  head  for  a  moment  on  the  breast  of  the 
rebel  officer.    Then   springing  up  she  sala  ^ 
quickly  : 

"  I  must  be  away.  I  have  staid  too  long 
already.  Molly  will  scold  me  soundly  for 
this  anyway." 

"Ah!  Molly.    She  is  still  with  you,  then?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  the  dear  girl  is  so  devoted  to  me 
that  she  cannot  endure  it  if  I  am  out  of  her 
sight  an  instant." 

"  She  hopes  to  convert  you,  maybe,  to  her 
political  belief." 

"  It  cannot  be  done.  Even  Molly  is  admit- 
ting it  at  last."  Then  she  heard  a  footstep 
outside,  and  placing  her  hand  in  that  of 
Fontneroy,  whispered: 

"  Good-night,  dearest.  Do  be  very  careful, 
for  my  sake!" 

Another  instant  and  she  was  gone. 

Colonel  Fontneroy  threw  himself  into  his 
chair,  and  placing  his  hands  upon  his  fore- 
head muttered  to  himself : 

"  What  a  demon  I  am  !  Heavens,  how  that 
girl  ean  love.  Had  I  known  it  sooner— why, 
it  is  like  playing  with  fire  to  even  suggeSlK^ 
that  I  am  not  hers  body  and  soul.  What  can 
I  do?  Certainly  there  must  be  some  end  to 
this.  I  ought  to  have  told  her  long  ago.  If 
her  evil  words  should  come  true " 

The  words  died  on  his  lips. 

The  sharp  ring  of  a  pistol  woke  the  night 
air. 

Colonel  Fontneroy  threw  up  his  arms 
wildly,  and  uttered  a  terrible  cry,  then  fell 
headlong  across  his  table. 

Through  the  window  before  him  which 
had  been  slightly  raised,  something  fluttered 
to  the  floor. 

A  close  view  revealed  the  fact  that  it  was 
a  stiletto. 

It  pinned  to  the  carpet  a  piece  of  paper. 

CHAPTER  II.  ^ 

ON  DANGEROCS  GROUND. 

The  same  night. 

Not  far  from  the  hour  when  the  Confeder^ 
ate  colonel  was  engaged  in  conversation  wiiu. 
Laura  Doane,  a  man  rode  hurriedly  up  the 
gravel  walk  leading  from  the  road. 

Flinging  himself  from  the  saddle,  bespoke 
a  single  word  to  the  soldier  who  confronted 
him  at  the  door  and  sprung  up  the  steps. 

As  the  light  from  within  fell  upon  him  it 
revealed  the  face  ot  a  young  man,  clad  in  the 
gray  uniform  adopted  by  the  Confederacy. 

He  was  handsome  as  an  Apollo,  with  a 
form  which  seemed  built  for  deeds  of  brav- 
ery and  endurance.  His  eyes,  dark  and  pierc- 
ing, seemed  to  take  in  at  a  single  glance  the 
entire  room  and  its  occupants;  and  a  smile 
curled  his  lip,  as  he  strode  to  the  great  fire 
blazing  in  the  old-fashioned  fire-place. 

Seeming  to  recognize  iu  the  new-comer  a 
man  who  would  demand  at  once  respect  and 
obedience,  the  group  about  the  sparkling 
fire  made  way  for  him,  and  for  some  mo- 
ments contented  themselves  in  surveying 
him  from  head  to  foot  in  a  manner  savorirg 
much  of  suspicion. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


It  was  a  time  when  both  Uniou  aud  Con- 
federate troops  were  every  moment  on  their 
guard  against  characters  whose  movements 
or  appearance  in  any  manner  indicated  that 
they  were  not  what  they  represented  them- 
selves. 

Especially  was  this  true  of  the  men  who 
utood  and  sat  under  the  roof  beneath  which 
the  young  stranger  had  .just  come. 

Seemingly  unconscious  of  the  scrutiny  be- 
iitowed  upon  him,  the  man  stood  for  some 
minutes  passing  and  repassing  his  bauds 
through  the  genial  flames,  his  eyes  Uxed  be- 
fore him,  as  if  his  thoughts  were  for  the  mo- 
ment on  things  far  distant. 

"  Been  out  some  time.  I  reclcon,"  finally 
ventured  one  of  the  bystanders  after  waiting 
some  time  for  the  stranger  to  breal£  the  si- 
lence, which  had  fallen  over  the  room  when 
he  entered  it. 

Starting  up  from  his  reverie  the  young 
man  replied,  with  a  laugh  : 
"Look  like  it,  don't  I?" 
At  thesame  moment  he  cast  a  glance  down 
at  his  high  cavalry  boots  now  heavily  spat- 
tered with  mud,  and  his  garments  steaming 
before  the  Are. 

",Yes,  f  have  had  a  long  ride.  A  long  ride, 
gentlemen,  and  such  a  one  as  I  don't  want 
again  on  a  night  like  this.  Ugh !  what  a 
storm !" 

As  the  words  were  spoken,  a  gust  of  wind 
hurled  the  rain  iu  sheets  against  the  win- 
dows olXfxe  fine  old  mansion  with  a  mourn- 
ful sound ;  and  almost  involuntarily  those 
present  crept  nearer  the  wide  open  flre- 
l>lace. 

■'  From  what  place  have  you  come  this 
pvenitig,  stranger?"  continued  the  first 
npi'aker,  evidently  of  a  more  inquiring  turn 
tliau  his  companions.  "You  see,  we're  anxi- 
ous lo  get  any  news  from  outside  just  at 
present." 

The  young  man    replied    without   a    mo- 
ment's hesitation: 
"I  came  last  from  Island  Number  Ten." 
"Ah  I" 

Something  almost  like  a  groan  run  around 
the  assemblage  at  mention  of  this  place,  the 
scene  of  recent  disaster  to  the  Confederate 
forces. 

•'  The  name  seems  familiar  to  most  of  you. 
Were  any  of  you  there  the  other  day  ?" 

"  Every  man  of  us,"  was  the  reply ;  "  and, 
stranger,  we  don't  like  the  sound  of  the 
word,  naturally.  But  how  is  it  that  you're 
getting  here  at  such  a  late  day?  There 
must  be  something  up.  What  delayed  you 
60  long?" 

There  was  a  tone  of  suspicion  In  the  voice. 
It  was  bound  to  come  out. 

Noticing  the  expression  very  speedily,  the 
stranger  drew  himself  up  before  the  tire. 
_L'.Yoii  don't  suspect  me,  I  hope." 

"  Who  said  we  did  ?"  was  the  somewhat 
short  query.  "  The  question  was  civil 
enough.    What  fault  have  you  to  find  with 


getting  to 
think  they'l 


it? 

"  Who  is  in  command  here?" 

The  tone  was  one  which  admitted  of  no 
delay. 

"This  house  is  the  quarters  of  Colonel 
Fontueroy  at  present,"  said  one  of  the  com- 
pany, who  had  not  spoken  up  to  this  mo- 
ment. "  I  have  the  honor  to  have  command 
of  the  guard  to-night." 

"  Then  you're  the  man  I  want  to  see.  It  is 
plaiu  that  some  cvf  those  fellows  suspect  me. 
What  reason  they  have  for  it  is  more  than  I 
can  imagine,  unless  it  be  on  general  princi- 
ples. I  want  to  tell  you  that  no  man  here 
has  purer  Soulliern  blood  in  his  veins  than  I. 
I  am  a  citizen  u{  the  soil  on  which  we  now 
stand.  I  was  bnin  here  and  spent  my  boy- 
hood among  these  hills.  But  I  am  not  going 
to  ask  you  to  take  my  word  foi  it.  Look  at 
these  papers,  i)lease;  they  will  tell  you  all 
you  want  to  knowabout  me." 

With  these  words  he  placed  in  the  hands  of 
the  Confederate  officer  a  package  of  letters. 

Hastily  running  them  over,  the  captain 
gave  them  back  to  the  j^oung  man,  and  turn- 
mg  to  his  subordinates,  said  : 

"It's  all  right,  boys;  this  man  is  eutitled 
to  our  oonfldeuce.  He  has  letters  from  head- 
quarters to  Colonel  Fontneroy." 

Then  he  added,  addressmg  the  stranger  : 

"  I  am  afraid  the  colonel  is  too  busy  to- 
night to  see  you.  I  don't  suppose  you  will 
care  about  waiting  till  morning." 

■;  Certainly  not.  But  I  must  see  him  early. 
It  is  of  great  importance  that  the  object  of 
my  coming  should  not  be  delayed  a  moment 
longer  than  can  be  avoided." 

Apparently  accepting  the  words  of  their 
leader  as  final,  and  removing  all  reasonable 
doubt  as  to  his  loyalty,  the  Confederates  at 
once  renewed  the  free  and  easy  conversa- 
tion in  which  they  had  been  interrupted. 

The  warm  fire  seemed  conducive  to  gar- 


rulity, and  the  tendency  was  increased  by 
the  sound  of  the  heartless  rain  outside. 

Perceiving  tliat  he  had  succeeded  in  dis- 
pelling suspicion,  the  young  man  seated 
himself  beside  the  Confederate  captain,  who 
said,  in  au  apologetic  luauuer: 

"  You  can't  wonder  that  our  men  are  be- 
coming more  and  more  watchful  regarding 
strangers.  This  vicinity  is  overrun  with 
Union  spies  at  present.  Every  day  they  are 
being  run  in.  These  parts  are 
hot  for  them,  however,  and  I  1 
begin  to  give  us  a  wide  birth  soo 
The  young  stranger  acquiesced. 
Who  that  know  the  situation  would  have 
thought  it  strange  that  the  Confederates 
used  every  possible  means  in  their  power 
conceal  their  movements  from  the  eagle 
eyes  of  the  indomitable  Union  general  who 
was  even  at  that  moment  hastening  to  super- 
cede them  at  Corinth  ?" 

There  had  been  in  the  late  repulses  sus- 
tained by  the  Confederates,  other  lessons 
than  those  conveyed  by  the  overwhelming 
losses  of  life  and  treasure,  lessons  which  they 
intended  to  make  available  in  the  future. 

Foremost  among  these  lessons  was  this : 
Seciecy  regarding  every  operation,  however 
insignificant. 

This,  primarily,  was  the  reason  why  such 
watch  was  kept  up  along  the  lines.  But  ho  w 
little  did  this  resolution  ultimately  avoid, 
history  tells  us  in  words  so  plain  that  no  rep- 
etition is  needed. 

Everywhere  the  scouts  of  the  Union  forces 
penetrated  the  most  carefully  guarded  camp 
of  the  Confederates;  everywhere  the  actions 
of  their  own  troops  were  followed  as  by 
gaze  omnipotent,  and  in  every  unsuspected 
quarter  they  found  that  they  had  not  been  so 
sly  that  the  wary  Unionists  had  not  detected 
them. 

For  a  moment  silence  fell  upon  the  group. 
The  eyes  of  the  young  man  still  rested  upon 
the  fire  iu  apparent  unconcern  at  the  con- 
tinued gaze  kept  up  by  the  soldiers  about 
him. 

"Too  much  care  cannot  be  exercised  in  this 
matter,"  he  said,  at  length.  "  It  is  frequent- 
ly the  case  that  men  we  least  suspect  are 
closest  on  our  trail.  I  judge  something  is 
afoot  among  you,  captain,"  he  continued, 
turning  suddenly  toward  the  man  he  ad- 
dressed. "  I  had  not  a  Utile  difficulty  my- 
self in  passing  the  sentry  to-night,  though  I 
had  the  countersign  and  these  letters  to  back 
me.  At  one  time  I  thought  I  was  about  to 
fail.  What  is  the  meaning  of  such  extraordi- 
nary precautions?" 

"  Ah  !  then  you  have  not  heard  the  latest  ? 
You  are  far  behind  the  times." 
"  How   should    I    be   aware   of   anything 
hich  is  passing  here?    You  forget,  captain, 


feels  his  pride  insulted. 


tell  yo 


that  I  am  just  in  from  a  long  absence. 

There  gathered  more  closely  about  the 
couple  a  half  score  of  Confederate  privates. 
Among  them  was  the  man  from  whose  lips 
had  proceeded  the  words  of  suspicion  when 
the  stranger  first  entered  the  room. 

Unawares  to  him,  the  never  resting  glance 
of  the  young  man  had  seen  in  this  man,  ac- 
tions which  he  did  not  like. 

He  knew  from  them  that  the  letters  he 
had  showed  the  captain  upon  the  strength 
of  which  he  had  been  proclaimed  worthy  of 
confidence,  had  not  removed  from  his  path 
one  who  would  prove  an  enemy,  and  who 
would  not  hesitate  to  strike  him  at  the  first 
opportunity. 

The  question  asked  by  the  young  man  had 
the  effect  of  bringing  this  individual  to  the 
side  of  the  captain. 

Leaning  over  his  shoulder  as  he  sat  in 
front  of  the  grate,  he  whispered  something 
in  the  officer's  ear. 

From  the  muttered  oath  which  the  cap- 
tain uttered  when  he  heard  the  words  spok- 
en - 1  could  be  inferred  that  he  placed  no  re- 
liance in  them. 

With  a  gesture  of  impatience  he  returned 
to  bis  conversation  with  the  young  man  at 
his  side. 

As  he  did  so  the  soldier  thus  thrust  from 
the  captain  strode  quickly,  though  quietly 
out  of  the  room. 

Silently  though  this  little  piece  of  acting 
had  been  going  on,  there  had  not^the  slight- 
est part  of  it  escaped  the  notice  of  the 
stranger,  but  nothing  in  his  manner  betray- 
ed that  fact. 

He  listened  in  apparent  unconcern  to  what 
the  captain  was  saying. 

"You  understand  that  this  matter  must  be 
kept  a  profound  secret  with  you,"  the  Con- 
federate said.  "If  it  should  get  to  the  ears 
of  the  Yanks  it  would  ruin  everything.  We 
can  depend  upon  you  ?" 

"  Sir,  what  more  can  I  say  to  satisfy  you 
upon  that  point?"  demanded  the  young 
man,  sternly,  and  with   the  air  of  one  who 


early  education  one  of  you." 

Rebuked  thus,  the  captain  continued  : 

"  In  yonder  room  sits  Colonel  Fontnorov, 
who,  though  inferior  in  rank  to  General 
Beauregard,  is  really  his  superior  as  a  sol- 
dier. By  him  has  there  been  devised  a  plan 
by  which  we  hope  to  do  much  toward 
regaining  what  we  have  lost  within  the 
past  few  weeks.  This  very  night  a  mes- 
senger went  out  of  this  camp  bearing  dis- 
patches." 

"  Dispatches  ?    To  whom  ?" 

"  Valuable  information  and  instructions  to 
Van  Dorn  and  Price.  Within  two  hours 
after  they  receive  those  dispatches,  there 
will  be  on  the  move  a  force  of  men  which 
will  enable  Beauregard  to  carry  out  the 
plan  just  referred  to." 

"And  that  is " 

"  Nothing  less  than " 

"Geutlemeu,  I  proclaim  yonder  villain  a 
Union  spy !    Arrest  him  on  the  spot!" 

The  words  sent  a  thrill  through  the  heart 
of  every  man  present,  and  all  turned  toward 
the  speaker. 

Hardly  had  the  sound  of  his  voice  ceased 
to  ring  through  the  room  when  the  young 
stranger  thus  accused  cleared  the  group  at  a 
single  bound,  and  before  a  step  could  be 
taken  to  arrest  his  course  he  stood  at  the 
door. 

Whirling  when  the  opening  had  been 
reached,  he  displayed  in  each  hand  a  gleam- 
ing revolver. 

Leveling  them  upon  the  Confederates,  ho 
exclaimed  in  a  clear  voice,  which  sounded 
to  those  present  like  the  tones  of  the  trum- 
pet of  doom  : 

"lam  what  that  man  has  called  me.  I 
will  say  more.  I  told  you  I  was  born  among 
you.  It  was  true.  1  stand  at  this  moment 
under  the  roof  of  the  house  where  1  first  saw 
light.  I  have  a  right  to  say  what  I  will  here, 
and  I  shall  do  it.  I  am  Phil  Lamonte,  the 
son  of  old  Jared.  I  see  you  remember  him 
and  me.  I  have  come  back  here  to  find  my 
home  held  by  a  band  of  traitors.  Take  it 
and  do  as  you  will  with  it.  When  you  want 
me,  seek  me  on  the  track  of  the  messenger, 
who  is  bearing  the  dispatches  to  Price  and 
Van  Dorn !" 

The  next  moment  the  intrepid  youth 
bounded  down  the  steps  and  out  into  the 
darkness. 

Just  then  a  shot  sounded  in  the  room  of 
Colonel  Fontneroy ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

BETWEEN  TWO  FIBES. 

When  Laura  Doane  left  the  presence  of 
Colonel  Fontneroy  she  ran  down  the  walk, 
stopping  Lot  until  she  reached  the  road. 
Here  she  groped  about  in  the  darkness  till 
she  found  the  horse,  which  had  brought  her 
thither,  fastened  to  asapling  but  a  few  paces 
from  the  gateway. 

Springing  lithely  upon  the  animal's  back, 
she  galloped  away  through  the  storm. 

Only  a  short  distance  had  she  gone,  bow  - 
ever,  when  the  sound  of  the  shot  fired  by  the 
night  bird  through  the  window  in  the  room 
of  the  Confederate  ofllcer,  rung  through  the 
air. 

Drawing  up  her  horse  the  girl  turned  her 
head  iu  the  direction  of  the  noise  and  listened 
long  and  earnestly. 

"A  shot!"  she  whispered,  "and  from   the 
Lamonte  mansion.    What  can  it  mean?    At 
this  hour  it  bodes   no   good.    I   tremble  at 
"'-^    that  evil  n 

hat 

called  forth  that  report.  Am  I  foolish? 
Fond  heart,  be  still !  Nothing  shall  harm 
him  Hove.    It  must  not,  must  not  be!  " 

In  an  instant  she  had  wheeled  the  animal 
sharply  about,  and  dashed  madly  back  over 
the  course  she  had  just  covered. 

Nearing  the  mansion  the  sound  of  voices 
commanding  and  the  thunder  of  heavy  foot- 
steps fell  upon  her  ear.  Lights  flashed  "every- 
where. The  entire  grounds  about  the  great 
building  seemed  alive  with  troops. 

As  the  girl  was  leaving  the  road  for  the 
walk  leading  to  the  door,  a  hand  was  laid  on 
the  bridle  of  her  horse,  and  a  soldier  said  : 

"You  cannot  pass.  Any  attempt  to  do  so 
will  prove  fatal  to  you !" 

"But  I  must  pass!"  exclaimed  the  girl. 
"  You  know  me.    I  am  Laura  Doane." 

"  Did  you  tell  me  you  are  the  daughter  of 
General  Beauregard  himself  I  would  not  let 
you  enter  now.  In  fact,  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
oughtnot  to  arrest  you  till  we  know  the 
source  of  that  shot  up  yonder  just  now.  Ton 
came  from  the  maDSion  iust  a  moment  ago  ?" 

"  I  did."  ^ 


NcU 


THE  WAR  I.iliJilAiiy. 


» evil  be- 


••  And  from  the  presence  of  Colonel  Font' 
neioy  ?" 

"T'es.     But  wliy  do  v.Mi  a.- 
fallen  him?    Speik,  qiiii'k.- 

"He  was  shot  in  liia  i i  liy  some  one  un- 
known.   That  is  all  I  can  lell  you." 

•'Shot!'ahiieked  tUegirl,  wildly.  "Shot, 
and  you  will  not  let  me  see  him.  I  must  go 
on  !  Remove  your  hand  or  I  will  strike  you. 
you  know  not  what  you  are  doing." 

She  raised  her  riding  whip  as  she  spoke, 
and  urged  her  horse  onward  up  the  drive. 
But  the  soldier  retained  his  grasp  and  half  a 
doBeu  companions  leaped  to  liis  assistance. 

The  borse  reared  frantically  and  almost 
unseated  the  girl.  Another  cry  of  terror 
broke  from  her  lips. 

Through  the  darkness  suddenly  there 
plunged  a  horseman,  before  whom  the  Con- 
federatee  retreated  in  haste.  The  hlows  he 
dealt  from  side  to  side  about  him  with  the 
butt  of  a  heavy  pistol  fell  with  such  violence 
that  no  one  cared  to  stand  before  tlicm. 

"  Unhand  that  woman  !"  he  said,  in  a  low, 
commanding  tone.  "  Tou  have  no  right  to 
beset  her  in  this  way.  Back,  you  scoundrel, 
or  I  will  strike  you  down!"  he  exclaimed, 
thrusting  himself  upon  the  spot  where  a 
rebel  was  holding  the  girl's  horse  by  the 
bridle. 

Startled  by  this  unexpected  and  vigorous 
attack  the  mandroppea  his  hand  and  crept 
back  into  the  shadow  of  a  thick  cypress. 

Then  grasping  the  reins  himself,  the  stran- 
ger guided  the  animal  he  rode  and  that  upon 
which  the  girl  was  seated  back  into  the 
highway. 

Stupefied  for  the  moment,  Laura  remain- 
ed silent  in  her  saddle,  wondering  who  this 
unknown  person  was. 

It  was  only  when  they  were  far  out  of 
reach  of  danger  that  she  said : 

"I  do  not  know  who  you  are,  sir,  but  I 
must  thank  you  for  your  kindness,  and  beg 
you  to  leave  me  now.  I  am  beyond  any  pos- 
sible harm  now,  and  I  must  return  to  the 
house  yonder." 

"Return!  Madness.  It  would  be  but  to 
rush  into  deepest  peril.  Have  you  not  seen 
that  already?  Pardon  me  for  refusing  to 
grant  your  request.  It  is  not  through  any 
wrong' intention  on  my  part  that  I  do  it." 

"  Tou  do  not  understand— I  cannot  tell 
yoa  my  reason  for  asking  what  I  do.  I  must 
know   the   truth  about  the  shot  I  heard  at 

the  mansion.    (Colonel  Fontneroy  is " 

"Suy  no  more,  miss.  I  know  what  you 
would  say;  and  I  promise  you  shall  soon 
know  what  you  wish.  We  must  go  on  now, 
however,  as  every  moment  this  place  is  be- 
coming more  daugerous.  The  Confederates 
will  be  swarming  in  every  direction  present- 
ly. It  yoa  will  accept  my  attendance  home, 
then  I  will  return  and  asc«rtain  all  I  can 
about  the  matter." 

Silently  acquiescing,  the  girl  urged  her 
steed  forward  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

She  felt  she  could  trust  herself  in  the 
hands  of  this  man,  and  relying  upon  the 
thought  she  determined  to  give  him  his  own 
way. 

The  house  occupied  by  the  Doaues  was  a 
beautiful  one,  standing  several  rods  from 
the  highway,  in  the  midst  of  grounds  the 
loveliest  of  the  vicinity. 

When  the  two  reached  it,  the  stranger 
turnt-d  up  the  path  as  if  he  had  been  ac- 
qntiinted  with  the  locality  for  a  lifetime. 

The  wonder  of  Laura  was  momentarily 
■deepening. 

Who  was  this  stranger? 

Bringing  their  horses  to  a  standstill  before 
the  door,  they  dismounted. 

Hardly  had  they  done  so  when  a  flood  of 
light  streamed  through  the  opening,  and  a 
young  girl  holding  a  lamp  high  above  her 
head  met  them. 

"Laura,  oh.  Cousin  Laura!  You  don't 
know  what  a  fright  you  have  given  us  all. 
Why,  we  have  hunted  high  and  low  for  you, 
you  naughty  girl,  all  this  great  house  over. 
And  when  we  found  that  Tom  was  gone 
from  the  stable  we  gave  you  up  for  lost." 

"  Molly,  I  wish  I  were  lost.  Oh,  why  must 
it  be !    Why  must  it  have  happened  !" 

Rushing  up  the  steps  and  past  the  aston- 
ished girl,  who  stood  holding  the  light, 
Laura  disappeared  in  the  house. 

Flinging  herself,  all  wet  and  cold  as  she 
was,  upon  a  sofa  she  gave  way  to  a  passion- 
ate outburst  of  tears. 

Molly,  with  a  sad  expression  on  her  pretty 
face,  turned  toward  the  young  man  who 
still  kept  his  position  at  the  foot  of  the  steps, 
saying,  in  a  choked  voice : 

"  Sir,  you  must  know  somethiug  about  the 
cause  of  my  cousin's  grief.  Tell  me,  I  pray 
you,  what  has  taken  place  to  pain  her  so." 

Advancing  a  little  so  that  the  light  rested 
fnll  on  his  features,  the  stranger  was  about 


to  reply  when  Molly  sprung  forward,  a  cry 
of  surprise  escaping" her. 

"  Phil !"  she  exclaimed. 

The  young  man  held  out  his  hand. 

"Yes,  Molly,  it  is  I,  though  I  hardly  ex- 
pected you  would  know  me." 
I  "Know  you!  Oh,  Phil !  As  if  lever  could 
forget  yo:? !  Come  in  out  of  the  rain  and 
tell  nie  how  it  happens  that  you  are  here  to- 
night, and  what  is  the  matter  with  Laura." 

Phil  Lamonte  gladly  obeyed  the  invita- 
tion. 

In  days  ^one  by  many  and  many  had 
been  the  time  when  he  had  sat  under  that 
roof,  listening  to  the  charming  voice  of 
Molly  Grarae  and  her  cousin,  the  proud, 
passionate  Laura  Doane. 

Those  were  the  days  when  he  was  the  only 
d  prospective  heir  to  old  Jared  La- 


naught  but  youth's  bright  dream 

Though  never  a  word  of  love  had  passed 
between  him  and  the  golden  haired  Molly, 
each  knew  the  heart  of  the  other,  and  slept 
in  the  sweet  consciousness  that  those  hearts 
beat  in  unison. 

But  the  spirit  of  enterprise  had  seized  the 
ambitious  Phil. 

In  the  Far  West  for  three  years  he  had 
wooed  the  fickle  goddess  of  fortune,  and  his 
wooing  had  not  been  in  vain. 

Meanwhile  the  aged  Jared  had  been  gath- 
ered to  his  fathers,  leaving  the  wide  estate 
in  the  hands  of  a  few  overseers  who  ruled 
the  negroes  who  remained  with  a  high  hand. 
Then  war  blew  its  brazen  blast  over  the 
land;  and  Phil,  notwithstanding  he  had 
been  born  a  Southerner,  saw,  with  an  eye 
more  far-reaching  than  his  kinsman  at  home, 
that  right  was  with  the  North— that  the 
South  would  be  crushed  in  the  end. 

High  in  his  heart  burned  the  love  of  home 
and  friends,  but  brighter  still  shone  the  lamp 
of  patriotism. 

So  he  had  come  back  to  the  old  plantation, 
but  to  find  it  in  thegrasp  of  Southern  hordes 
who  thought  not  of  the  owner  as  they  burn- 
ed and  plundered. 

Seeing  this  state  of  things  he  had  resolved 
to  oast  his  lot  with  the  North, 

He  did  so,  and  was  once  again  in  (he  old 
country,  this  time  with  a  mission. 

Following  Molly  into  the  house,  he  re- 
plied : 

"  It  would  take  too  long  for  me  to  tell  you 
what  brings  me  home  again.  Only  this  will 
I  sav  now  :  I  am  Bghting  tor  theLnion." 

"  For  the  Union  f  Oh  !  Phil,  how  glad  I  am 
to  hear  you  say  that!  But  your  clothes— 
they  do  not  agree  with  your  words.  They 
are  those  of  the  other  side." 

"They  cover  a  suit  of  the  truest  blue, 
Molly.     See." 

He  opened  the  breast  of  the  Confederate 
uniform,  displaying  a  coat  of  deep  blue. 

"  But  why  are  you  disguised?  Can  it  be 
you " 

"  I  am  a  spy,  Molly.  Tu-uight  I  have 
learned  something  which  may  prove  of  the 
greatest  importance  to  our  generals  Before 
this  time  I  should  have  been  on  my  way. 
Y'our  cousin,  Laura,  has  detained  me,  as  you 


"Does  Laura  know  that  you  are  Union  in 
sentiment?" 

"No;  and  Molly  I  want  you  to  keep  it  a 
secret  tor  me  for  the  present.  I  don't  know 
on  which  side  you  stand,  save  through  one 
little  word  you  spoke  a  moment  ago;  but  I 
know  for  the  sake  of  the  old  tiroes  1  can 
trust  you." 

The  eyes  of  Molly  glistened. 

"  No  heart  in  all  the  Union  army  is  truer 
to  the  cause  than  mine,  Phil.  Your  secret 
is  safe.  But,  Laura,  hark  !  What  was 
that  ?" 

"  The  sound  of  of  horses'  feet  on  the  gravel 
walk!"  exclaimed  Phil,  as  he  peered  through 
the  window.  "  Either  they  want  Laura,  or 
they  have  tracked  me  hither.  I  am  afraid 
in  any  case  I  shall  bring  you  into  trouble  by 
remaining  here.  If  I  am  quick  I  may  be 
able  to  escape  by  a  back  way.  Can  you  show 
me  out?" 

"  I  will  see.    Here,  come  quickly  !" 

The  girl  bounded  out  of  the  great  parlor 
into  a  hall  leading  to  the  rear  of  the  bouse. 

Pulling  open  a  door  she  looked  cautiously 


The 


late! 


aid  there  was 


"Yes,  but    how?    That 


rhat 


"  Y'ou  may  be  able  to  understand  better 
than  I  when  I  tell  you  that  Colonel  Fontne- 
roy was  shot  not  an  hour  ago  in  his  quar- 
ters." 

"Great  heavens!  shot,  Colonel  Fontneroy ! 
Now  it  is  plain  to  me.  Poor  Laura— poor 
Laura''' 

Molly  sprung  from  the  chair  in  which  she 
had  been  sitting,  and  put  her  little  hand  up 
to  her  head,  as  if  trying  to  comprehend  the 
full    meaning    of   the   news     she   had   just 

"You  are  sure?  There  can  be  no  mistake? 
Was  the  wound  fatal  ?" 

"  That  I  caunot  tell  you.  I  have  promised 
Laura  that  I  would  return  and  learn  all  the 
particulars  possible.  I  must  not  delay 
longer." 

He  rose  as  he  spoke. 

"Back  again?  Oh,  Phil!  I  am  afraid  you 
ought  not  to  do  this.  May  there  not  be  dan- 
ger ?" 

"  I  will  not  conceal  the  facts  from  you, 
Molly.  It  will  be  dangerous  for  me  to  re- 
trace my  steps  into  the  Confederate  camp. 
"  I  have  been  detected,  and  nothing  but  the 
shooting  of  Fontneroy  has  kept  me  from  be- 
ing pursued.  My  promise  to  Laura  shall  be 
kept,  however.  Not  yet  has  the  word  nf 
Phil  Lamonte  been  broken." 


Let  her  gaze  rest  where  i 
a  man  on  horse. 

Hurriedly  withdrawing,  she  shot  the  tiolt 
in  the  lock,  whispering: 

"It's  no  use,  Phil.  They  are  everywhere. 
We  must  tiy  somewhere  else." 

At  that  moment  a  loud  rap  was  heard  at 
the  front  door,  and  a  hoarse  voice  said  : 

"  We  want  Phil  Lamonte." 

CHAPTER  IV. 

.4    ST.4RTI,TNG   ACCUSATION. 

The  pistol  shot  which  strue'i  down  the 
Confederate  colonel  brought  to  his  roous- 
every  man  in  the  spacious  Lamonte  man- 
sion, and  for  a  moment  nothing  was  thought 
of  but  to  ascertain  the  exient  of  the  injury 
done  by  the  blow. 

Even  the  guard  outside  deserted  their 
posts,  and  left  the  coast  clear  in  all  direc- 
tions. 

Captain  Drury,  who  was  in  command  of 
the  guard,  was  the  first  to  reach  the  side  ol 
the  wounded  officer. 


Raising  hii 


1  from  bis  lalli 


u  p. 


ition  he  car- 
sofa, 


Tied  him  as  carefully  as   jiossible  to 
and  laid  him  upon  if. 

"Call  Surgeon  l>e  Jiirrietle  at  once,"  he 
commanded,  and  half  a  dozen  men  sprung  tc 
obey  his  bidding;  for  the  proud  cohmel, 
though  sometimes  severe  with  his  men,  was 
a  favorite  with  all 

Si 
an  (3 
there  was  a  deep  silence  in  the  apartment. 

"The  wound  is  severe,  but  not  dangerous.' 
said  De  Jarnette,  after  :!  lew  moments.  ^'Tf^ 
was  a  singular  shot.  I  i  aiinot  understand 
it.  It  looks  as  if  it  had  nut  been  intended  to 
kill,  but  to  injure  terrii'iv.  Who  knows  any- 
thing about  this  affair!" 

The  question  recalled  to  their  senses  the 
soldiers  crowding  around.  For  the  first  time 
the  query  presented  itself:  Who  did  the 
shooting?  In  a  twinkling  the  search  for  the 
midnight  assailant  was  commenced. 

Rallying  from  his  state  of  inconsciousuess, 
Colonel  Fontneroy  was  in  a  short  time  able 
to  relate  all  he  knew  of  the  shooting,  which 
was  nothing  further  than  jlhat  from  some 
source  a  bullet  came  crashing  through  hie 
left  breast.    Then  he  became  insensible. 

Search  revealed  that  the  old  ivy  vine  out- 
side the  window  had  been  disturbed, and  the 
sash  even  then  stood  up  a  little  way. 

In  the  hurry,  consequent  upon  the  alarm, 
no  one  had  noticed  the  stiletto  which  stlUre- 
mained  pinning  to  the  floor  a  bit  of  paper. 

Here  was  a  clue. 

Directly  it  was  discovered  that  it  was 
brought  to  Surgeon  De  Jarnette,  who  pulled 
the  paper  from  the  point  of  the  weapon  and 
handed  it  to  Colonel  Fontneroy. 

With  hands  white  and  trembling  the  officer 
unfolded  the  note  and  glanced  at  il. 

But  a  single  word  met  his  gaze. 

That  word  was:  "Justice!" 

The  pallor  which  had  hitherto  overspread 
the  face  of  Fontneroy  heightened  till  he  was 
deadly  pale. 

For  an  instant  he  leaned  back  upon  his 
pillow,  his  eyes  closed,  and  the  piece  of 
paper  crumpled  between   his  clinched  fln 

•  lloiv  is  it,  colonel?  Does  that  reveal  any 
I  111  ml:  iliiit  laii  be  of  use  to  us?" 

II  \<  ;n  (he  voice  of  Captain  Drury. 

■Vi's;  no— (hat  is— I  cannot  tell  you  now. 
Tins  is  nothing,  I  assure  you.  It  will  be  of 
no  use  to  try  to  trace  the  fellow.  I  know 
liini.  Curse  him!  I  know  him,  and  know 
bow  ilaiigerons  he  is!    But   what  am  I  sav- 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


tog  ?  Leave  me  with  the  dootor,  (.aptain.  I 
waut  him  to  tell  me  how  badly  I  am  hurt. 
Let  the  villain  who  fired  upon  me  go  for  the 
present.  By  and  by  I  will  meet  hiiu  again 
taoe  to  face." 

Led  by  the  captain,  the  soldiers  vacated 
the  room,  leaving  the  wounded  man  with 
the  Burgeon. 

Although  the  colonel  bad  expressed  the 
wish  that  no  pursuit  .-ihould  be  given,  there 
were  reasons  « iiy  t'liptaiu  Urury  determined 
to  go  in  search  of  the  intruder. 

He  half  believed  Phil  Lamonte  was  oon- 
ne(!ted  with  the  firing  of  that  shot. 

At  any  rate  the  young  man  had  deceived 
him  and  drawn  from  his  lips  information 
which  might  prove  fatal  to  the  Confederate 
plans. 

Smartmg  under  this  unconsciousness, 
Urury  summoned  a  band  of  trusty  men  and 
hurried  out  upon  the  road. 

For  some  time  he  hardly  knew  which  way 
to  turn.  Then  falling  in  with  the  men  who 
had  just  had  the  encounter  with  our  hero,  he 
learned  that  he  had  ridden  away  with  Laura 
Doane,  in  the  direction  of  the  home  of  the 
latter. 

"Ha!  So  she  is  concerned  in  this  matter,  is 
*he?  It  looks  like  a  conspiracy.  If  it  is,  I'll 
ferret  it  out,  if  it  costs  me  the  entire  night. 
This  wav,  lads,  "  he  shouted.  "  To  the  Doane 


almost  certain  he  had  something  to  do  with 
the  shot  at  Colonel  Fontneroy." 

Ua>ihing  up  the  road  through  the  rain, 
which  still  came  down  in  torrents,  the  band 
rapidly  made  their  way  toward  the  house  of 
the  Doaues. 

The  night  was  intensely  dark.  Not  a  foot 
in  advance  could  they  see.  The  mud  splashed 
heavily  under  the  feet  of  the  horses. 

Upon  reaching  the  mansion.  Captain  Dru- 
ry  commanded  his  companions  to  surround 
it  and  permit  no  one  to  pass.  Though  it  was 
.believed  that  the  Doanes  were  friendly  to 
the  Confederacy,  it  was  known  that  ifoUy 
Grame's  heart  was  true  to  the  stars  ami 
stripes,  and  the  story  told  by  the  guard  of 
the  flight  of  Laura  with  the  daring  young 
scout  lent  a  shadow  of  suspicion  to  even  her 
fidelity  to  the  Southern  cause. 

Mounting  the  steps  to  the  porch.  Captain 
Drury  pounded  loudly  upon  the  heavy  oaken 
panel  with  his  pistol,  at  the  same  time  ex- 
claiming: 

"  We  want  Phil  Lamonte  I" 

Hearing  this  peremptory  demand,  Laura 
sprung  from  the  couch  upon  which  she  had 
.  thrown  herself  and  hastened  to  the  door. 

The  light  from  the  brilliant  chandelier 
withm,  resting  upon  her  features,8howed  that 
they  were  tear-stained  and  full  of  anguish. 

"  You  bring  me  news  from  him— from  Col- 
onel Fontneroy.    What  is  it?    So  he " 

"He  is  badly  hurt,  that  we  can  tell  you  ; 
and  we  are  here  after  that  young  dare-devil, 
Phil  Lamonte,  who  came  here  with  you  just 
now.  It's  no  use  to  say  he  is  not  here.  We've 
found  your  horse,  and  he  is  wet  and  foaming 
outside,  and  we  know  he  is  here." 

"  If  he  is,  I  do  not  know  it,"  said  the  girl, 
brushing  away  her  tears  and  growing  the 
beautiful  and  haughty  Laura  again.  "  A 
stranger  rescued  me  from  the  hands  of 
a  number  of  vour  ill-bred  men  as  short  time 
ago;  but  it  was  not  the  man  you  name. 
Phil  Lamonte  has  not  been  in  these  parts  in 
years.    You  are  mistaken." 

"I  tell  you  we  are  not.  I  have  seen  him 
this  night  with  my  own  eyes.  You  cannot 
make  me  think  ycmr  story  is  true.  You  may 
as  well  know,  liistas  last,  tliat  you  and  lie 
are  under  suspicion  as  having  been  connect- 
ed with  tlie  wound  received  by  Colonel 
Fontneroy  to-night."' 

"It's  a  lie!"  cried  the  girl,  fiercely.  "I 
won't  listen  to  such  a  base  accusation.  It  is 
a  foul  plot  against  me.  It  shall  fail !  I  scorn 
you  all." 

She  stood  proudly  erect,  facing  the  hard- 
featured  Confederates  as  she  spoke,  and  her 
keen  eyes  flashed  at  the  insult  placed  upon 

What !  she  accused  of  intrigue  in  bringing 
about  this  blow   upon   Colonel    Fontneroy/ 

Why,  she  loved  him  ! 

She  would  have  given  her  life  to  save  his. 
The  idea  was  too  preposterous,  and  stepping 
back  into  the  room  she  was  about  to  close 
the  door,  when  the  Confederate  officer  put  up 
his  hand  and  hissed  through  his  clinched 
teeth: 

"  You  give  me  the  lie  and  your  scorn  in  the 
same  breath.  I  am  not  the  man  to  take 
either,  even  from  the  lips  of  a  woman.  Now 
we  will  search  the  house." 

The  captain  took  a  step  forward 

That  instant  a  pistol  touched  his  forehead 


and  an  ominous  click  woke  the  echoes  of  the 
room. 

The  hand  of  Laura  Doane  held  the  weapon. 

She  was  now  pale  as  the  driven  snow,  but 
there  was  a  look  iu  her  face  which  boded  no 
good  to  the  rebel  before  her. 

"I  am  but  a  woman,  sir,  but  I  tell  you 
this,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  which  thrilled  the 
hearts  of  her  listeners.  "  No  man  enters 
here  save  over  my  lifeless  body.  I  am  a 
Doane.  All  my  life  long  I  have  lived  among 
the  people  of  Tennessee.  My  heart's  best 
wish  has  been  for  the  success  of  the  Con- 
federate cause.  But  if  this  is  the  manner  in 
which  you  conduct  your  warfare;  if  you, 
sir,  are  a  specimen  of  the  Southern  soldier,  I 
am  done  forever  with  you.  I  am  innocent, 
God  knows  it,  of  the  charge  you  bring 
against  me.  As  for  the  young  man  you  seek 
to  implicate  in  conspiracy  with  me,  I  know 
nothing.  He  may  or  may  notbeguilty  asyou 
allege.  I  do  not  believe  he  is.  If  he  is  under 
this  roof,  he  shall  be  protected  to  the  last.  I 
dare  you  to  enter  further !" 

Recoiling  a  little,  the  Confederate  stood 
for  a  moment  irresolute. 

He  rebelled  against  being  thwarted  in  his 


,  a  man  of  great   brute  strength,  before 
which  few  would  care  to  stand. 

There  was  a  villainous  look  in  his  evil  eyes, 
as  he  heard  the  words  of  the  fair  maiden. 
Was  he  indeed  to  be  foiled  by  her  ? 

Foiled,  never! 

Watching  her  closely,  he  leaped  forward, 
and  striking  up  Laura's  arm,  bore  her  with 
terrible  force  to  the  floor. 

Scarcely  had  she  touched  the  floor  when  a 
figure  sprung  out  of  the  shadow,  and  Phil 
Lamonte  appeared  on  the  scene. 

He  had  divested  himself  of  the  Confederate 
uniform,  and  stood  clad  in  the  Union  blue. 

At  one  blow  he  hurled  the  rebel  captain  to 
the  floor.  Then  turning  to  the  band  of 
soldiers  crowding  to  the  threshold,  he  ex- 
claimed : 

Will  you  try  to  imitate  the  example  of 


monte.  You  know  me  of  old.  Come  on  if 
you  will!" 

Staggering  to  his  feet,  the  captain  yelled, 
fiercely : 

"Yes,  we  know  you,  and  you  shall  know 
us  better  before  we  are  through  with  this 
matter;  you  traitor!  You're  the  man  we 
came  here  after,  and,  by  Heaven,  will  take 
you  dead  or  alive !  If  you  want  to  carry  the 
battle  into  this  house,  so  be  it.  Up,  boys, 
and  avenge  the  blood  of  our  colonel ! 

The  Confederate  drew  his  pistols  and  rush- 
ed almost  blindly  forward. 

He  was  met  by  a  blow  from  the  fist  of 
Phil  Lamonte,  which  sent  him  again  reeling 
backward. 

But  the  fight  was  no  longer  with  this  man 

Incite-i  by  words  of  their  leader,  half  a 
score  plunged  through  the  doorway  to  sup- 
port him. 

It  was  a  moment  of  peril. 

One  man  and  two  women  against  a  host  of 
armed  soldiers. 

As  the  rebels  one  by  one  crossed  the 
threshold  the  powerful  arm  of  the  young 
man  laid  them  low. 

As  yet  not  a  shot  had  been  fired.  But 
each  moment  Phil  expected  to  hear  the 
dreadful  sound  of  a  pistol. 

And  it  came. 


shot  „    „g   uu,„u.^ 

close  to  the  head  of  the  daring  Phil 

In  the  space  of  a  second  there  came  an  an- 
swering report  from  the  weapon  of  Laura 
Doane. 

It  could  hardly  have  missed  some  oue  in 
that  living  wall,  and  a  crv  of  distress  showed 
that  it  had  taken  effect 

Another  shot! 

This  time  the  finger  of  Molly  Graiue  sped 
the  bullet. 

Like  heroines  of  old  these  two  were  de- 
fending tliHirpnternal  castle. 

With  I.;nn;i  the  coiitrc.lling  thought  was 
no  loi]i.-(  I-  I  li:ii  ,.|  Idv.'  fi.r  t  lie  seceding  South. 
She  hail  i.Miivi-il  tli;it  ln-r  jiutriotism  would 
be  wastnl  on  iiu-ii  so  ()evnid  of  true  man- 
hood as  these. 

Fierce  though  this  coutest  was,  and  loud 
as  were  the  outcrys  that  went  up,  above  the 
din,  the  ears  of  the  gallant  Phil  suddenly 
heard  the  sound  of  horse's  feet  clattering  up 
the  sandy  walk,  and  peering  through  the 
doorway  he  saw  coming  out  of  the  shadow 
a  single  horseman. 

Listening,  he  expected  to  hear  sounds  in- 
dicating a  bitter  struggle  outside,  for  he  felt 


that  this  must  mean  help  for  him,  and  he 
was  right. 

He  saw  tlie  horseman  fiitting  hither  and 
thither  among  the  rebels  blocking  up  the 
space  before  the  house;  heard  dull  yet 
crushing  blows  and  watched  the  band  of  as- 
sailants dwindle  away  till  not  one  was  left; 
all  had  fled  howling  into  the  storm  and  dark- 
ness. 

Then  a  man  bounded  up  the  steps  and 
halted  before  the  surprised  persons  he  ba<l 
so  nobly  saved. 


CHAPTER   V. 

A    WOMAN'S   KUSE. 

It  was  a  singular  face  which  looked  out 
from  under  the  low  cavalry  hat  on  the  head 
of  the  man  who  stood  at  the  door  of  the 
Doane  mansion. 

There  was  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  Phil 
that  the  stranger  was  in  disguise.  The  hair 
and  beard  were  those  of  a  man  far  advance<l 
in  years,  while  the  eyes  peeping  from  their 
bushy  covering  weie  those  of  one  much 
younger. 

This  might  have  escaped  the  notice  of  an 
ordinary  observer,  but  not  our  hero. 

And  he  saw^  more;  the  hungry  expression 
which  every  feature  bore. 

We  have  seen  that  face  before  to-night. 

It  was  the  same  which  glared  into  the 
window  of  Colonel  Fontneroy. 

Leaning  against  the  doorway,  this  strange 
man  said,  in  a  tone  halt  inquiry,  half  sur- 
prise : 

"Well!' 

"You  have  done  us  a  good  turn,  my 
friend,"  Phil  responded,  reaching  out  his 
hand. 

"Indeed,  you  speak  the  truth,  Mr.  La- 
monte," exclaimed  Molly,  also  coming  for- 


This  to  the  stranger. 

"You  don't  know 'era  as  well  as  I  do,  if 
you  think  that,  miss,"  was  the  reply.  "That 
Captain  Drury  is  a  fiend,  1  can  assure  you. 
They'll  be  back  here  in  a  few  minut«8,  an' 
they'll  come  for  business." 

Laura  now  pressed  forward,  her  face 
beautiful,  though  pale  as  ash«s. 

"Oh,  tell  us  what  to  do  I  All  this  trouble 
has  come  through  a  mistaken  idea  that  I 
have  some  knowledge  of  the  shooting  of 
Colonel  Fontneroy.  They  will  be  satisfied  at 
nothing  less  than  my  arrest,  I  suppose.  By 
giving  myself  up  I  can  put  a  stop  to  this 
persecution.  If  they  come  again  I  will  do  so. 
I  know  the  colonel  will  direct  my  discharge 
as  soon  as  he  is  able  to  attend  to  the  matter, 
if  that  time  ever  comes." 

"Don't  worry  about  his  being  hard  hurt, 
miss,"  said  the  stranger,  directing  his  words 
to  Laura.  "  I  know  he  is  not  seriously  in- 
jured." 

"You  know  it,  strange  man,'  she  said, 
eagerly,  placing  her  hand  upon  his  arm  and 
looking  up  into  his  stern  face.  "  Are  yon 
sure  that  you  know  what  you  sav  is  tnie? 
It  means  a  world  to  me." 

A  smile  lighted  up  the  features  of  their 
preserver. 

"Miss,  Old  .lanquin  would  not  deceive  you 
it  he  could.  I'm  sorry  it  you're  anything  to 
that  man,  or  he  to  yon  ;  for  I  know  him — 
ah  !  how  well  I  know  him— but  the  wound 
he  received  to-night  was  not  fatal.  Rest 
your  breast  on  that.  But  I  tell  you  again 
they  will  return.  If  you  have  any  way  of 
escape,  now  is  the  time." 

"I  think  our  friend  is  right."  Phil  said. 
"Not  alone  you,  L:iiini,  are  sought.  They 
waiitrae.  I  li:i\  c  ai  ..UM-d  their  ire  by  fer- 
reting out  a  despciate  plan  they  have  on 
toot,  and  they  will  hunt  me  down  to  the 
last.  1  think  if  I  were  not  here  all  would  be 
well  with  the  ladies.  Itisl  who  have  brought 
all  this  misfortune." 

"Say  not  so,"  cried  Molly,  putting  her 
hand  to  the  lips  of  the  brave  young  man. 
"Yon  have  saved  us  from  death,  perhaps. 
You  shall  not  reproach  yourself." 

Laura  put  her  hand  iu  that  of  Phil. 

"  Mr.  Lamonte,"  she  said,  "you  must  let 
me  thank  you  tor  the  noble  part  you  have 
borne  this  evening.  I  do  not  agree  with  vou 
in  your  ideas  about  the  merits  of  the  Noi  Ih- 
ern  cause;  bull  thiuk  I  know  a  true  man 
wherever  I  find  him." 

There  was  a  tender  light  in  her  eyes  as  she 
spoke.    It  was  evident  that  she  felt  what  .*he 


quickly: 

"This  is  no  time  for  words  like  these. 
Time  is  too  precious.  Even  now  I  hear  the 
tread  of  horses  on  the  road.  Which  will 
you  do,  make  a  useless  fight  or  flee !    My  ad- 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Tice  is  foryou,  youDgster,  to  get  out  of  this 
at  once.  These  ladies  cau  take  care  of  them- 
selves. There  is  iiothiug  against  them.  It's 
you  they  are  after.  Don't  waste  any  words, 
but  come." 

"The  stranger  is  right,  I  think,"  said 
Laura.    "Go,  ciuickly." 

With  a  fond  look  at  Molly  the  young  man 
prepared  to  follow  his  guide. 

Reaching  the  porch  they  saw  that  tliey 
were  not  quick  enough. 

Their  departure  had  beeu  cut  off.  A  con- 
stantly increasing  host  of  Confederates 
blocked  every  avenue  of  approach  to  the 
house. 

"  Too  late!"  muttered  the  stranger,  as  he 
put  up  his  arm  to  check  the  further  ad- 
vance of  Phil.  "  We've  got  to  cut  our  way 
out,  I  am  afraid." 

"  Do  you  say  they  are  here  ?"  asked  Molly. 
meeting  them  as  they  stepped  back  into  the 
room. 

"  Here!  I  should  say  they  were,  the  whole 
secesh  army,  by  the  looks,  has  come  here  to 
capture  two  women  and  one  man." 

"But  they  shall  not  do  it!"  hissed  Phil,  his 
eyes  flashing,  and  his  hand  seeking  his  pis- 
tols. "If  they  have  not  learned  to  know  me 
yet  I'll  give  them  a  few  more  lessons." 

"  Your  pluck  is  good,"  said  the  stranger, 
admiringly.  "Buttlie  case  is  a  serious  one 
now.  I  tell  you  retreat  is  the  safe  word. 
There  are  enough  men  out  yonder  to  tear 
this  house  down  hy  pieces,  and  they'll  do  it, 
too,  if  they're  pre.^sed." 

Molly  Grame  whispered  ; 

"  Phil,  I  have  an  idea.  Please  don't  say 
no  to  it.  Stand  quietly  here  for  a  moment. 
Laura,  go  to  the  door  and  put  those  fellows 
off  a  short  time.  You  can  do  it  by  telling 
them  we  will  go  with  them  to  Colonel  Font- 
neroy  himself.  I  know  he  will  at  once  re- 
move all  charge  from  you." 

Phil  was  about  to  remonstrate.  His  blood 
was  at  a  poiut  little  less  than  boiling.  But 
the  stranger  said  quietly  ; 

"Let  the  girl  have  her  own  way.  She'll 
brin"  us  out  all  right." 

Molly  flew  away  to  the  rear  of  the  house, 
and  darted  through  a  long  shed  which  con- 
nected the  house  with  the  stables.  In  a  mo- 
men  she  disappeared. 

Laura Doaue  hastened  to  the  door.  Already 
loud  trampling  of  feet  sounded  without. 
Although  she  knew  not  what  was  the  plan 
her  quick-witted  cousin  had  on  foot,  she  be- 
lieved that  an  escape  for  Phil  might  be  pro- 
cured. 

So  stauding  face  to  face  with  the  rebel 
horde,  she  engaged  them  in  long  parley,  end- 
ing by  promising  to  surrender  herself  up  to 
them  if  she  could  be  promised  that  she 
should  be  conducted  immediately  into  the 
presence  of  Colonel  Fontneroy. 

This  request  having  been  granted  not  a 
mament  too  soon,  Molly  dashed  into  the 
room. 


ing  we 
'ith    th 


Laura,  the  Confederate  captain  now  declared 
his  intention  of  searching  the  house. 

They  had  scarcely  set  foot  in  the  house, 
however,  when  there  was  a  shout  from  the 
stables. 

Hastening  thither  with  the  belief  that  the 
young  man  had  been  discovered,  the  captain 
saw  a  crowd  of  his  men  surrounding  a  load 
of  straw  upon  a  wagon,  to  which  was  at- 
tached a  span  of  mules;  and  on  the  top  of 
which  was  perched  a  trembling  negro. 

Fora  moment  the  Confedirate  officer  was 
angry  with  himself  for  allowing  his  atten- 
tion to  be  distracted  by  so  simple  a  thing. 

"This  is  a  false  alarm,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Who  started  it  ?  It's  a  ruse  to  take  our  at- 
tention from  the  house.  Here,  men,  back  to 
the  mansion  at  once,  and  let  this  old  nigger 
go  about  his  business." 

"If  we  do  we  lose  our  man,  "  said  one  of 
(he  number  around  the  load  of  straw.  "I 
know  he  is  buried  in  that  wagon." 


it.  Did  you  see  him  crawling 
inf 

"No,  sir;  but " 

"No  buts  orands  aboutit.  It's  not  likely 
that  he  could  have  got  out  of  the  house  with- 
out  being  seen.  Here,  you  black  nigger,"  he 
said,  suddenly  addressing  the  colored  man 
on  the  load.  "  How  is  it  that  you're  starting 
out  at  this  time  o'  night.  Where  are  you  go- 
ing ?" 

"  Down  to  Massa  Beauregard's  camp,  dat's 
all.  He  say  he  want  some  straw  very  early 
in  de  mornin',  and  I'se  gwine  to  tuk  it  down 
to  him." 

"  Who  sent  you?" 

The  captain  came  nearer  the  wagon  and 
begun  to  look  suspiciously  up  at  the  negro. 


There  might  after  all  be  something  in  what 
the  soldier  had  said.  Tbe  plot  might  be  to 
hide  Phil  Lamonte  benwitli  this  sliuw,  and 
convey  him  out  of  the  t'lUllr(l^-l  ;ile  lines. 

"Massa  Doaue  done  tole  tu^  to  do  dis,  sah," 
was  the  response,  from  the  fear-stricken  ne- 
gro. "  Deed,  sah,  I  ain't  done  nuftin  'gainst 
de  Souf.  I'se  Mass,i  Doane's  man.  Pomp,  an' 
he  knows  I'se  'liable." 

"  If  he's  in  here,  curse  him,  I'll  H.k  him  !" 
the  oiBcer  said,  hissing  the  words  through 
his  teeth,  as  he  drew  his  sword  and  com- 
menced thrusting  it  deep  into  the  load. 

Here,  there,   everywhere  he  plunged    the 
weapon,  now  and   then  listening    for  some 
cry  of  pain  from  within. 
But  none  came. 

At  length,  as  if  convinced  that  no  living 
being  could  possibly  be  hidden  inside  the 
straw,  he  whirled  on  his  heel  and  said  : 

"You  see  1  was  right.  This  is  all  a  scare. 
The  fellow  is  still  in  the  house,  unless  lie  has 
taken  advantage  of  this  piece  of  nonsense  on 
our  part  and  escaped.  But  to  make  assur- 
ance doul)ly  sure,"  he  muttered,  half  to  him- 
self, "  I'll  send  a  man  with  this  wagon  to 
Beauregard's  quarters." 

And  he  detailed  a  private  for  this  purpose, 
then  hastened  back  to  the  house. 

Meanwhile  the  negro,  breathing  easier 
when  he  saw  that  suspicion  no  longer  rested 
immediately  upon  him,  cracked  his  wliip 
over  the  mules,  and  disappeared  down  the 
road,  the  Confederate  keeping  him  company 
on  his  horse  beside  the  wagon. 

It  was  not  long  before  there  was  a  stir  in- 
side tbe  straw. 

Was  there,  indeed,  a  man  stowed  away 
there  ? 

A  few  minutes  later  the  sharp  crack  of  a 
pistol  woke  the  silence. 

With  a  wild  yell  the  Confederate  horseman 
threw  up  his  arms,  and  fell  heavily  to  the 
ground. 

Instantly  the  wagon  was  Ijrought  to  a 
standstill. 

From  beneath  the  heavy  covering  of  straw 
which  had  buried  him  Phil  Lamonte  sprung. 
"Hurrah  for  little  Molly!"  he  shouted. 
"  Her  scheme  has  saved  me.  Pomp,  you've 
done  nobly,  too;  here's  a  piece  of  gold  to 
repay  you  for  this  night's  adventure.  Go 
back  into  the  woods  here  till  you  think  it  is 
safe  to  venture  home.  Then  tell  your  pretty 
mistress  Sam  is  safe." 

Springing  at  a  light  bound  to  the  back  of 
the  horse  from  which  the  Confederate  had 
just  fallen,  the  young  man  darted  along  the 
highway. 

"  A  close  shave,  by  .Jove!"  he  soliloquized, 
with  a  suiile  of  congratulation,  as  he  thought 
of  his  narrow  escape.  "That  bit  of  steel 
came  unpleasantly  near  to  me  several  times. 
I  don't  see  how  he  could  have  missed  me. 
Once  or  twice  the  blade  cut  my  coat.  But 
I'm  safe!  Three  cheers  for  MoUv!  Dear 
little  Molly!  When  shall  I  see  her  again?" 
Ah !  when? 

"  How  brave  she  is !  Well,  I  must  not 
think  of  her  too  much  now.  I've  other 
things  on  hand  at  present,  and  must  devote 
myself  to  them.  By-and-by,  who  knows  but 
I  may  come  back  here  for  my  jewel. 
Now,  away  for  Pi  ice  and  Van  Dorn  !  If  that 
scout  has  not  yet  reached  them  with  those 
messages  he  shall  try  a  race  with  me.  If  I 
can  get  my  hands  on  them,  it  will  be  just  a 
grand  thing  for  me.  Won't  it,  though? 
Well,  here  goes.  I'll  try  the  metal  of  this 
horse  a  little." 

At  this  he  dug  the  spurs  deep  into  the  ani- 
mal's sides. 

With  a  bound  the  horse  sprung  forward, 
heavy  though  the  road  was  in  consequence 
of  the  prolonged  rain,  a  long  distance  soon 
lay  between  the  daring  young  scout  and  the 
scene  of  his  recent  escapade. 

Weary  though  he  began  to  feel  by  the 
events  of  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  on, 
on  through  the  night  he  rode. 

The  steed  he  had  secured  proved  a  noljle 
one,  and  stood  the  hard  ride  well. 

The  gray  morning  light  found  him  still 
galloping  ahead,  his  eyes  fixed  toward  the 
spot  where  he  hoped  to  overtake  the  rebel 
messenger. 

At  break  of  day  he  drew  up  at  a  sprinar  to 
refresh  his  thirst  and  that  of  his  horse. 

Bending  low  upon  the  ground  to  reach  the 
limpid  streamlet,  the  cracking  of  a  stick  fell 
on  his  ear. 

Before  he  could  regain  his  feet,  three  men 
rose  from  the  bushes  not  a  dozen  paces  from 
the  spring,  and  he  looked  down  into  the  mur- 
derous tiroats  of  three  rifles. 


CHAPTER  VL 

THE  COKFEDERATE  DISPATCHES. 

'  Put  up  your  hands !    Stir  out  of  your 


tracks,  and  we'll  snuff  your  candle  tor  you!" 

The  words  were  uttered  in  the  cool  tone  of 
a  man  who  knows  his  advantage,  and  intends 
to  make  the  most  of  it. 

Phil  Lamonte  fastened  his  eyes  full  upon 
the  three,  but  made  no  motion  toward  obey- 
ing the  command  thus  boldly  given. 

If  they  were  daring,  he  was  bravery  itself. 

Seeing  that  the  young  man  remained  mo- 
tionless in  the  spot  where  he  had  been  sur- 
prised, one  of  the  number  came  forward  out 
of  the  thicket,  guarding  our  hero  sharp- 
ly as  he  did  so. 

As  he  came  fairly  into  sight,  Phil  saw  that 
he  wore  the  dress  of  a  Confederate. 

Probable  his  companions  were  of  the  same 
stripe. 

"  You  heard  what  I  said,  didn't  you  ?"  the 
rebel  said,  with  an  air  of  bragadocia.  "  Why 
don't  you  follow  orders?" 

"  I  accept  orders  from  a  superior,  sir,"  was 
the  calm  reply,  as  Phil  perceived  with  what 
sort  of  men  he  had  to  deal.  "I  don't  see  in 
this  ruse  why  I  should  obey  orders." 

There  came  over  the  face  of  the  Confeder- 
ate a  scowl  of  intense  hate. 

"  You're  rather  bold,  it  strikes  me,"  he 
sneered.  "  Perhaps  you  don't  know  who  we 
are.  Come  here,  boys,  and  we'll  introduce 
ourselves  to  this  innocent  young  chap.  Your 
eyes  rest  at  the  present  moment  on  Bud 
Overton  and  two  friends  of  his." 

For  an  instant  the  heart  of  Phil  Lamonte 
!  he  heard  the  name 
men  before  him,  for  Bud 
knowu  even  at  that  early  period  as  one  of 
the  most  dangerous  scouts  of  the  Confeder- 
ate army. 

Many  ana  many  a  man  had  fallen  into  his 
hands,  never  to  be  heard  of  afterward.  He 
was  the  terror  ol  the  Union  scouts.  ^  _ 

No  one  care  to  come  face  to  face  with  him. 

Phil  Lamonte,  however,  resolved  that  no 
deed  or  word  of  his  should  show  this  friend 
that  he  feared  him. 

"  Bud  Overton!"  he  repeated  in  a  dispai^ 
aging  way.  "  I  know  as  well  nc--  as  1  did 
before  who  you  are.  You'll  have  to  make 
further  explanation  before  you  impress  me 
very  seriously.  If  introductions  are  in  order, 
why,  I'll  make  myself  acquainted  with  you. 
I'm  Phil  Lamonte,  of  the  Union  army!" 

This  was  meeting  bravado  with  bravado. 
It  was  an  extremely  dangerous  thing  to  do. 

The  scowl  of  hate  on  the  face  of  Bud  Over- 
ton deepened  into  a  glare  of  rage,  and  bis 
linger  nervously  played  with  the  trigger  of 
his  rifle. 

"You'll  know  me  better  before  you  are 
through  with  this  morning's  piece  of  work," 
he  hissed..  "  I'll  show  you  what  it  is  to  brave 
Bud  Overton,  the  rebel  scout!  Here,  boys, 
put  this  around  him,  and  bind  it  tight,  mind 
you.  The  cursed  rascal  must  l>c  m  .^e-tO  ■ 
feel  what  a  stout  cord  can  be  made  to  do." 

As  he  spoke.  Bud  tossed  a  piece  of  flne  cord 
to  one  of  his  followers,  who,  catching  it, 
took  a  step  or  two  toward  the  young  man. 

As  yet  Phil  had  not  stirred  from  the  place 
where  he  had  planted  himself  when  the 
noise  in  the  bushes  disturbed  him  at  the 
spring. 

He  displayed  no  fear  at  the  approach  of 
the  Confederate  who  was  under  instructions 
to  make  him  captive. 

A  slight  paleness  rested  on  his  handsome 
features,  but  that  might  have  been  due  to 
the  fatiguing  journey  of  the  night  just 
ended. 

At  that    moment    something  unexpected 


lappened. 
Just  whi 


ust  what  it  was  Bud  Overton  and  his- 
companions  never  knew. 

Two  flashes  in  rapid  succession  lighted  up 
the  early  morning,  and  two  reports  deafen- 
ed the  over  confident  Confederates. 

With  a  groan.  Bud  and  the  man  who  stood 
beside  him  measured  their  length  on  the 
ground. 

line  quick  blow  with  his  fist  and  the  sol- 
dier who  held  the  cord  lay  beside  his  com- 
rades. 

"  "When  you  meet  me  again,  do  you  think 
you  will  know  me?"  he  cried,  as  he  leaped 
upon  his  horse  and  disappeared  in  the  dis- 
tance. "  By  Jove  I  but  that  was  a  narrow 
escape!"  the  young  man  said,  when  once 
safely  on  the  road  again.  "Lucky  I  have 
had  some  training  in  the  F:ir  West,  or  it 
might  have  been  Phil,  the  scout,  who  lay 
back  yonder  instead  of  those  fellows.  Bud 
Overton,  eh  ?  You  may  be  a  dare-devil  but 
you  are  not  quick  enough  for  me.  Now  I'm 
off  again." 

And  he  spurred  rapidly  forward. 

Suddenly  he  drew  his  horse  up,  so  quickly 
that  the  animal  slipped  on  the  wet  ground. 

"  I  wonder  if  those  fellows  haven't  got  the 
dispatches  I'm  looking  for?  It  would  be 
very  natural  for  the  Confederate  general  t« 


THE  WAic  ilBRARY. 


mine.    The  m 

likely  it  seenn  that  I  am  right." 

VVIii'tliii-j  :  hnipily,  the  young  man  shot 
I)n<^ic  ovei-  the  road  he  had  a  moment  before 
irav»T,-eil.     , 

NeMiiug  the  place  of  the  encounter,  he 
dismouuted  and  fastened  his  horse  to  a  sap- 
ling; ill  the  midst  of  a  dense  clump  of  under- 
growth. 

Ttieu  he  made  his  way  as  cautiously  as  an 
Indian  might  liave  done  toward  the  spring, 
near  whieh  he  had  left  the  three  Confed- 
erates. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  cunUl  )ii-:n- 
through  the  hushes  the  low  sounil  of  voires. 
mingled  now  and  tlieii  with  exclamations  of 


It  Hici,  hecamc  evident  that  one  of  his 
shoU  hail  proved  fatal;  hilt,  liucl  and  the 
mail  he  had  struck  with  his  h:\iul  ic  ii.itied. 
The  latter  had  stripped  away  HimI- cli. thing 
and  was  e.-^aniiniug  liis  wouinis. 

"  He  has  given  you  an  iigly-lonkiMg  hurt 
lieie,  Cud,  an'  no  mistake,"  was  lie-  Coiired- 
eiate's  remark,  wheu  he  had  linished  his  ex- 
aniiiiatiou.  "1  wouldn't  wonder  much  it  it 
laid  you  up  for  awhile.  The  ball  passed 
clenn'through  the  left  side,  not  three  inches 
below  the  heart.  A  close  shave,  au'  uo  mis- 
take. You  eau  thank  your  lucky  stars  that 
you  ain't  with  old  .Tim,  there." 

~  The  Confederate  groaued. 

It  was  a  hard  thing  for  bim  to  admit  that 
be  bad  been  outwitted  and  almost  sent  out 

of  existence  by  a  youngster,  little  more  than 

a  boy. 
"  I'll  make  that  stripliug  repent  all  this!" 

he   muttered.      'No    man    ever   came   out 

ahead    of   Bud    Overton    in    the   long  ruu. 

Can't  you  help  me  up  to  the  spring,  Bill?    It 

seems  as  if  a  little  water  would  do  me  good. 
But,  stay;  look  and  see  if  the  dispatches  are 

all  right.    That  infernal  bullet  must  have 

gone  tlirougb  them." 

'  Taking  up  the  coat  which  he  had  removed 

from   the  wounded  scout,  the  Confederate 

searched  for  the  dispatches. 
"Y(ui  are  right,  Bud,"  he  said,  at  length. 

"  There  is  a  hole  big  enough  for  a  raau  to 

crawl  through,  right  in   the  center  of   the 

papers.     I'm   afraid  nothing   can    ever    be 

made  out  of  them." 
Again  a  moan  of  baffled  rage  and  despair 

broke  from  the  lips  of  Bud. 
"They  must  go  on    to  their   destination, 

though  it  don't  seem  now  as  if  I  could  go 

ahead   with    them,"  he   said.    "I   feel  as  if 

this  might  be  my  last  work.    This  hurts  me 


bosom ;  and  though 
this  conjecture  regarding  the  dispatches  was 
correct,  and  that  they  were  almost  within 
his  reach,  still,  it  struck  a  tender  place  iu  his 
nature  to  listen  to  the  meanings  of  Bud,  the 
strong,  brave,  though  mistaken  man. 

In  a  moment  be  had  marked  out  for  him- 
self a  plan  at  ouce  humane  and  daring. 

Breaking  through  the  low  bushes  which 
had  concealed  his  form  while  listening  to  the 
conversation  of  the  two  scouts,  heapproach- 
ed  the  place  where  Bud  lay.  The  soldiers, 
who  Iiad  esc.  ped  other  injury  from  tiie 
Lands  of  Phil  than  a  stunning  blow  of  the 
fist,  rose  Iroiu  his  kneeling  posture  liesidehis 
injured  companion,  a  look  of  profound  as- 
tonishment overspieadiug  his  face. 

Had  the  young  Unionist  returned  to  learn 
theextent  of  the  damage  done  by  him,  and 
if  need  be  finish  up  the  work  he  had  begun  ? 

The  hand  of  the  Confederate  sought  his 
pistol-belt. 

"Hold!"  exclaimed  Phil,  making  a  com- 
manding gesture.  "  I  do  not  come  now  to 
renew  our  recent  struggle.  It  was  forced 
upon  me  iu  the  first  place,  and  I  could  do 
nothing  different  finm  what  I  did.  You 
must  admit  that  1  cimlil  not  yield  myself  np 
like  a  craven  cur.    You  are  badly  hurt." 

Thus  speaking,  be  iient  down  over  the 
prostrate  form  of  Bud. 

Taken  by  surprise  at  this  strange  proceed- 
ing on  the  part  of  one  who  was  supposed  to 
be  ever  an  enemy,  and  one  who  could  feel 
iin  pity  for  a  Confederate  in  distress.  Bud  re- 


mained silently  watching  the  face  of  the 
young  scout. 

The  rebel,  whom  Bud  had  addressed  as 
Bill,  slipped  his  pistol  back  into  its  place. 

"  Indeed,  Bud  is  hard  hit  this  time.  You 
gave  him  a  bad  wound,  I'm  afraid " 

"  Did  you  want  water'/'  asked  Phil,  re- 
calling the  last  words  the  scout  had  uttered 
before  he  left  the  thicket.  "Let  me  help 
you  carry  him  up  to  the  spring.  Bill.  Lucky 
that  the  raiu  has  ceased  falling.  But  you 
are  drenched  to  the  skin.  It  will  never  do 
to  let  you  remain  out  here.  Still,  I  see  no 
sign  of  a  bouse  near.    That's  bad.  " 

Th,^  two  men  lifted  the  stricken  Confeder- 
ate ill  their  arms  and  bore  bim  gently  to  the 
crystul   spring,    when    Phil    assisted   him  to 

This  (lone,  the  yuuiig  man  ili.l  his  best  to 
stanch  the  ciiiiis'oii   life-cunviit   which   was 

The  hand  uf  no  woman  could  have  done 
this  work  more  softly,  and  even  from  the 
hard  features  of  the  rebel  scout  there  shone 
a  look  of  gratitude. 

••This  is  strange,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  grov 
ing  weaker.   "I  thought  you  Yanks  wouldn 
raise  a  finger  to  help  one  of  us  in  such  a  time 
as  this." 

"  Yon  were  mistaken  then.  Bud.  War  is  a 
cruel  thing;  it  was  brought  on  by  the  lead- 
ers on  your  side.  I  don't  say  that  I  really 
blame  them;  but  they  were  mistaken,  that 
is  all.  The  North  is  fighting  against  the 
establishment  of  wrong  principles,  not 
against  men.  It  you  can  understand  that 
then  you  know  the  secret  of  my  course." 

A  smile  lighted  up  the  grim  countenance 
of  Bud. 

"  It's  worth  something  to  hear  you  say 
this,  comrade;  but  it  don't  ease  the  paiii 
here.  I  guess  I'm  going  out,  boys.  The 
light  is  fading,  and  I  know  it  is  not  because 
night  is  coining.  Will  you  leave  ine  and  Bill 
aloue  for  a  minute?  I  have  something  I 
want  to  say  to  him." 

•' Certainly,"  was  Phil's  response;  and  he 
withdrew  a'few  paces. 

"  Bill."  whispered  the  dying  scout,  hoarse- 
ly, "  the  dispatcties — take  them.    I  can't  go 
through  with  them.    Youmust  see  that  they 
are  delivered.    Promise  to  guard   them  with 
your  life." 
"  I  swear  it !"  said  Bill,  solemnly. 
"  That's  all.  Bill.    Good-by." 
Phil  came  back  in  a  few   minutes  and  all 
was  over  with  Bud. 

The  vicissitudes  of  civil  war  had  blotted 
out  the  life  of  one  more  erring  mortal. 

With  a  sorrowing  spirit,  Phil  aided  the  Con- 
federate to  give  his  two  dead  fellows  the  best 
burial  they  could,  and  that  was  poor  enough. 
Many  a  soldier  has  found  such  a  grave  be- 
neath the  Southern  sky. 

Then  the  two  sat  sileully  down  beside  the 
spring  and  looked  at  each  other. 

What  would  be  the  next  move  of  the  young 
Union  scout  ? 

"  Bill,"  he  said,  calmly,  after  some  time 
had  elapsed,  "  you've  got  the  dispatches.  " 

An  expression  of  alarm  swept  over  the 
countenance  of  Bill. 

"  You  don't  know  that,"  he  rejilied,  in  a 
steady  tone. 

"Yes,  I  do.  I  overheard  what  you  and 
Bud  were  saying  before  I  came  back.  They 
were  in  his  breast  when  I  shot  him.  The  ball 
from  my  pistol  wentcrashing  through  them. 
He  handed  them  over  to  you  before  he  died. 
I  did  not  see  him  do  that,  but  it's  natural  to 
suppose  that  he  did  so." 
An  interval  of  silence. 
"Well?" 

"  I  want  the  dispatches." 
"  I  tell  you  it  is  impossible." 
"  I  would  say  I  must  have  them.    That  is 
what  brought  me  away  out  here  through  the 
dark  and  storm." 

"  I  have  promised  to  guard  them  till  death. 
X  will  keep  my  promise!  " 
"  I  must  have  them  !" 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A    MISSIIlX    FCLL   OF   EVIL. 

Pretty  Molly  Grame  had  a  lover  of  a  char- 
acter entirely  different  from  that  of  Phil 
Lamonte. 

Oliver  Oglethorpe  was  a  genuine  son  of  the 
South. 

He  bad  inherited  wealth  enough  to  make 
him  entirely  independent  of  sordid  labor. 

He  hart  acquired  evil  ways  which  caused 
him  to  be  a  terror  to  all  right-miuded  citi- 

Not  without  a  certain  degree  of  talent,  he 
was  possessed  at  the  same  time  of  a  low  cun- 
niug  which  would  stoop  to  anything  for  the 
sake  of  carrying  a  point. 

His  name  had  frequently  been  seen  in  pub- 


lic print  since  the  opening  of  the  rebellion, 
at  tached  to  articles  of  so  incendiary  a  nature 
that  nowhere  else  under  the  sun  could  they 
have  found  light  save  in  the  South. 

That  they  had  au  influence  with  a  certain 
class  cannot  be  doubted.  And  they  had 
brought  him  a  kind  of  notoriety  which  he 
used  ever  to  a  selfish  purpose,  and  made  him 
fello\\'  to  men  of  considerable  rank. 

He  hail  profo^cd  to  love  Molly  Grame  ever 
siic  c  slic  lia.l  colli",  an  orphan,  to  the  Doane 
niaii-ioii  lo  \\\r,  some  eight  years  prior  to 
the  time  our  slory  opens. 

It  is  needless  lo  say  that  his  affection  was 
not  rctuined  by  Molly. 

As  soon  would  one  think  of  a  dove  having 
tenilcr  f  jeliiigs  toward  a  hawk.  She  scorned 
him,  yet,  like  the  true  lady  she  was,  treated 
him  with  a  respect  to  whieh  he  was  by  no 
means  eutitled. 

Wheu  Laura  and  her  cousin  gave  them- 
selves np  to  the  Confederate  soldiers,  and 
were  conducted  to  the  Lamonte  mansion, 
w  here  Colonel  Fontneroy  lay  wounded, 
amougthe  first  to  interest  themselves  in 
their  favor  was  Oglethorpe,  to  whose  ears 
had  come  the  news  of  ilie  capture. 

Although  the  Confedeiate  colonel  lost  no 
time  in  proclaiming  Lai.ra  in  no  manner 
connected  with  his  misfortune,  there  were 
some,  and  among  them  Captain  Druiy,  who 
insisted  in  a  thorough  e.xaminatiun.  Iiinting 
that  even  if  the  girl  did  not  actually  have  a 
hand  in  the  shooting,  there  were  fads  which 
went  far  toward  implicating  her  as  an  ac- 
complice. 

In  fact,  circumstances  did  point  in  Ihatdi- 
reclion,  as  will  be  see!!  by  recalling  the  time 
when  Fontneroy  was  shot,  and  the  where- 
iil  (lilts  of  Laura  when  that  event  took  place. 

Hence,  there  was  need  that  some  one  should 
take  the  mailer  up  ami  carry  it  fnriher  than 
theeoloiiel,  wounded  so  seriously,  could  do. 

Seeing  this,  young  Oglethorpe  lost  no  time 
iu  espons.ng  the  cause  of  Laura;  and,  much 
to  the  disgust  of  Drury,   succeeded  in  secnr- 

Both  Laura  and  her  cousin,  grateful  for 
this  service,  were  not  slow  in  expressing 
tlieir  thanks. 

But  this  was  not  all  the  wily  Southerner 
desired. 

He  had  entered  upon  this  matter  with  the 
intention  of  gaining  something  more  than 
empty  thanks. 

For  the  time,  however,  he  made  no  show 
toward  taking  advantage  of  the  service  he 
had  performed.  But  the  moruing  after  the 
shooting  ot  the  colonel  and  the  events  de- 
pendent thereon,  Oglethorpe  presented  him- 
self at  the  mansion  of  the  Doanes. 

Perhaps  his  actions  had  been  accelerated 
by  the  news  that  Phil  Lamonte,  the  dashing 
young  Union  scout,  had  returned  to  the 
vicinity,  and  the  memory  that  in  days  gone 
by  he  had  beeu  an  ardent  admirer  of  the  ob- 
ject of  his  own  affections. 

The  heart  ot  Molly  sunk  as  she  witnessed 
his  approach,  for,  with  a  woman's  intuitiou 
into  his  character,  she  had  feared  that  there 
might  follow  from  the  difficulty  of  the  night 
previous,danger  to  herfrom  this  very  source. 

This  Southerner,  ever  impetuous,  was  not 
long  iu  proclaiming  the  object  of  his  visit, 
and  with  words  as  gentle  as  her  tongue  could 
frame  Molly  told  him  that  it  was  impossible 
for  her  to  look  with  favor  upon  bis  advances. 

"  I  beg  you  will  not  think  unkindly  of  me 
for  this,  Mr.  Oglethorpe,"  she  said,  earnest- 
ly. "It  is  only  because  I  feel  that  I  am  do- 
ing both  you  and  myself  justice  that  I  speak 
as  I  do." 

Oglethorpe,  hot  with  passion  at  the  re- 
fusal with  which  he  had  been  met,  replied  : 

"I  presume  I  could  guess  why  lam  not  ac- 
cepted. I  don't  think  it  would  be  very  hard. 
'    hear  that   young  Lamonte  has  returned 


ngs." 
arlet 


the   fair   young   girl,    as   she   heard    these 
words. 

"Mr.  Oglethorpe,"  she  said,  rising  from  the 
sofa  on  which  she  had  been  sitting,  "you 
may  not  pardon  me  for  saying  that  I  do  not 
think  you  have  any  right  to  address  me  with 
that  language.  Jlr.  Lamonte's  return  has 
not  the  slightest  bearing  upon  my  answer  to 
your  proposal  this  morning.  Were  he  a 
thousand  miles  away,  had  I  never  seen  him, 
I  could  not  have  answered  you  differently." 

Oglethorpe,  throwing  aside  all  reserve, 
now  displayed  his  true  nature — that  of  a  vil- 
lain of  the  deepest  dye. 

"  I  believe  y 
claimed,  leapii 
the  brute  he  was.  "  I  know  yon,  and  I  have 
watched  you  when  you  did  not  think  it,  and 
I  repeat  that  I  do  not  think  you  tell  me  the 
truth." 

"  You  are  no  gentleman,  sir,  and  1  will  not 


THE  WAR  LIBK^iivY, 


allow  myself  to  be  iii9ulte<l  l)y  you.  I  will 
listen  uo  longer." 

Oliver  Oglethorpe  threw  hitnselt  iii  the 
sirl's  way,  as  she  turned  to  leave  the  room. 
He  was  now  white  with  rage. 

"You  shall  hear  me!  I  will  speak  further, 
and  tell  you  that  never  so  long  aa  lite  is  left 
mo  to  move  that  right  arm  shall  Phil  La- 
monte  wed  you.  Curse  hira,  he  shall  not 
stand  in  my  way  longer!  Your  handsome 
young  lover  will  not  look  upon  your  face 
again.     I  swear  it! 

"  He  is  able  to  defend  himself  against  such 
as  you  I  fear  not  for  him.  1  will  tell  you 
now  that  were  it  a  question  with  me  be- 
tween you  iii](i  him  an  instant's  time  would 
suffice  to  de<icle  the  matter.  I  would  as  soon 
think  of  ending  my  own  life  as  wedding  you ! 
That  is  all  I  have  to  say,  and  you  can  make 
the  most  of  it." 

S|>ringi.ig  aside,  she  ran  like  a  startled 
fawn  away  from  the  monster. 

Trembling  with  anger  at  his  utter  discom- 
fiture, Oglethorpe  hastened  back  toward  the 
Confederate  camp. 

His  heart  was  full  of  wrath  toward  Phil 
Lamonte. 

Reaching  his  quarters  a  message  was  hand- 
ed hira. 

]  t  read  : 


"Fontneroy!  I  wonder  what  he  wants?" 
said  Oglethorpe,  when  he  had  ftiiished  this 
brief  message.  "  It  may  be  he  can  help  me 
out  of  (his  scrape  with  Molly  Grame.  If  1 
rememlier  rightly  te  has  a  soft  spot  in  his 
heart  toward  that  dark-eyed  cousin,  Ijuuiii 
Doaiie.  The  thing  is  worth  trviug,  at  leiisi. 
If  my  plans  work  well,  let  Phil  I.aiiionie 
look  out  for  himself.  He  shall  not  sliiiid  in 
my  way  long.  Either  he  wins  ni  I  do  ;  and 
who  ever  knew  Oliver  Oglethorpe  to  be  de- 
feated f    Yes,  colonel,  I'll  come  at  once." 

The  young  man  crumpled  the  piece  of  pa- 
per which  the  Confederate  colonel  had  sent 
him  into  a  hundred  shapes,  then  tossed  it  to 
the  ground. 

He  did  not  see  a  pair  of  eyes  gleaming  out 
of  a  face  which  had  grown  hungry  with 
watching  that  followed  his  every  movement, 
and  he  was  not  aware  iliat  the  owner  of 
those  eyes  stole  silently  to  the  spot  where 
he  had  been  standing  and  picked  up  the  mes- 
sage from  the  colonel. 

"How  are  you  to-day,  colonel?"  asked 
Oglethorpe,  entering  Fontneroy's  room  in 
the  Lamonte  mansion  ten  minutes  later. 
"  Better,  I  hope." 

'•  Yes,  I  am  better,  Oglethorpe.  This  thing 
will  keep  me  here  only  a  day  or  two.  In  fact 
I  caraenear  getting  up  this  morning,  but  the 
doctor  thought  1  had  better  wait  a  little 
longer." 

"  Glad  to  hear  it.  We  need  you  every  min- 
ute. But  I  suppose  you  are  busy  planning 
all  the  time,  just  the  same.  You  sent  for  me, 
colonel  ?" 

The  ofBoer  cast  a  hurried  glance  about  the 
room  at  these  words,  and  a  strange  expres- 
sion liime  over  his  oniiitenanie. 

He  iHstened  his  eyes  upon  the  window  near 
the  couch  on  which  belay  for  a  moment. 

"Oglethorpe,  would  you  mind  dropping 
this  shade?  I  am  full  of  singular  notions 
to-day.  I  fancied  I  saw  some  one  peering 
through  the  window  upon  us  just  now. 
Only  a  whim,  of  course,  but  I  want  uo 
watchers  now." 

"Certainly,  I  will  do  so,"  responded  Ogle- 
thorpe, suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 

The  next  moment  shadows  rested  over  the 
apartment. 

It  WHS  with  difficulty  that  the  two  could 
distinguish  each  others  features. 

"Iditl  send  for  you.  Oglethorpe.    I  want 


becau.se  I  know  you  will  not  betray  me." 

"  I  would  die  sooner." 

"Thank  you.  I  know  I  shall  not  be  dis- 
appointed in  you.  I->ow,  what  I  want  is 
this— listen  closely  now:  I  must  speak  hard- 
ly above  my  breath.  There  must  be  no  se- 
crets between  us.  I  know  the  man  who 
shot  me  last  night." 

"You  do?" 

"  'Sh !  I  ten  you,  we  must  not  let  the 
slightest  syllable  of  this  get  upon  the  wind. 
It  would  mean  ruin  for  ns  both.  I  say  I 
know  him.  He  has  haunted  my  footsteps 
like  a  sleuth-hound,  till  last  night  he  found 
the  opportunity  be  sought,  and  like  the 
Graven  coward  he  is,  he  sought  my  life.  He 
must  be  removed  1" 

"  But,  colonel,  why  have  you  not  mention- 
ed thir  before?  What  is  the  reason  you 
have  not  given  it  into  the  hands  of  the  law, 
military  if  not  civil,  to  seek  him  and  punish 
him?" 


"  I  have  my  reasons,  OgUtlicu  pi.  For  the 
present  they  must  remain  i  oin'ealed  in  my 
breast.  Some  time  I  may  be  able  to  answei- 
these  questions.  Not  now.  You  will  not 
press  me  further,  I  feel  certain." 

■'  Pardon  me  for  suggesting  that  which 
causes  you  pain.  Ignorance  alone  must  be 
my  plea.    But  now,  what  do  you  wish  from 


ly.     Will  you  undertake  the  work  of  rii 
me  of  that  villain  ?" 

"  How  can  I,  colonel  ?  You  forget  that  I 
know  nothing  of  the  man.  It  would  be 
necessary  for  me,  at  least,  to  know  what  hit 
personal  appearance  is.  Otherwise  I  might 
work  in  the  dark,  and  perhaps  commit  some 
awful  blunder." 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,  and  I  must  con- 
fess it  affords  me  no  little  pleasure  to  tell 
you  that  by  following  ray  instructions  you 
cannot  mistake  the  man  I  wish  you  to  find. 
I  am  sure  he  is  no w  in  disguise ;  but  he  can- 
not change  the  expression  of  his  eyes.  Here 
is  a  picture.  Look  at  it  carefully.  No  man 
ever  had  such  eyes  as  those.  Heaven!  they 
are  burned  into  my  soul!  Would  that  I 
could  forget  them  !  Once  they  rest  upon 
you  they  seem  to  sink  so  deep  into  your 
memory  that  you  will  remember  them  to 
your  dying  day  !  '-' 

The  colonel  handed  Oglethorpe  a  photo- 
graph ns  bespoke. 

O-letliorpe  took  it,  and  bending  over  it, 
by  the  uncertain  light  of  the  room  strove  to 
get  an  idea  of  the  man  it  represented. 

"  Take  it  with  vou ;  it  will  be  a  sure  guide. 
I  know  it.  The  "man  is  banging  about  this 
vicinity.  I  feel  sure  of  that.  Hunt  him 
down,  and  don't  let  him  escape!  You  are  a 
good  shot?" 

"  1  never  miss?" 

"Be doubly  sure  this  time,  and  I  swear  to 
you  that  you  shall  have  anything  it  is  in  my 
power  to  grant." 

Oglethorpe  rose  from  the  posture  he  bad 
held  over  the  wounded  Confeuerate,  and 
paced  up  and  down  the  room  several  times 
in  a  nervous  way. 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  deliberating 
what  answer  to  give  the  colonel. 

His  heart  was  bad  enough  to  do  even 
baser  crimes  than  that  suggested. 

The  only  question  was  bow  to  introduce 
the  subject  nearest  his  heart. 

Finally  he  paused  befoie  Fontneroy. 

'■  There  is  one  thing,  colonel,  you  can  help 
me  about.  I  love  Molly  Grame,  the  cousin 
of  Laura  Doane,  who  is,  rumor  says,  your 
fiance.  Can  you  do  anything  toward  over- 
coming a  prejudice  she  has  for  me?  lam 
not  so  well  versed  in  these  matters  of  the 
heart  as  you  are,  and  I  don't  know  how  to 
get  at  the  little  witch." 

Fontneroy  started  violently  at  the  mou- 
ti(ui  of  Laura's  name  in  connection  with  his 
own. 

"  Who  says  that  Laura  Doane  is  to  be  my 
bride?"  he  demanded,  almost  fiercely. 
"  People  must  not  be  too  free  with  my 
name." 

"  Every  one  is  talking  about  it.  You  must 
admi*  the  matter  looks  rather  .suspicious. 
Here  she  is.  making  you  calls  on  such  a  night 
as  the  last." 

"  It  was  imprudent  in  her,  to  say  the  least; 

but Well,   Oglethorpe,  I'll  see  what  can 

be  done.    I  think   I  may  be  able  to  assist 
yoii." 

"That's  all  I  ask.  Now,  good-morning. 
You  shall  hear  from  me  soon." 

In  another  moment  he  was  gone.  Outside 
the  house  be  luhbed  his  hands  together  and 
laughed  almost  boyishly. 

"  I'm  getting  my  hands  full  of  jobs.  I 
don't  ri-Mlly  like  the  looks  of  this  tiniig  of 
the  colonel's.  I'd  like  to  know  what's  be- 
hind all  this.  Perhaps  I  can  find  out  before 
the  end  comes.  At  any  rr.te,  it  will  prove  a 
good  thing  tor  me.  1  see  that  Fontneroy 
is  in  earnest  this  time." 

An  hour  later  a  man  rode  out  of  camp  up- 
on a  powei  fill,  long-limbed  horse  which  bore 
hiin  spcKlily  out  of  sight  around  a  turn  in 
the  wooded  road.  From  beneath  the  slouch- 
ed hat  he  wore,  there  peered  thedark  baleful 
face  of  Oliver  Oglethorpe. 


(  HAPTER  Vlir. 

THE   RIVAI^  SUITORS   MEET. 

"I  must  have  the  dispatches!" 

The  voice  of  Phil  Lamonte  was  stern  as 
fate,  and  hearing  it,  the  heart  of  thetWnfed- 
eiiile  hegaii  to  misgive  him. 

•I  have  come  on  here  expressly  to  over- 
take von  and  get  possession  of  the  message 
vou  are  carrving  to  the  rebel  generals  in  Ar- 
kansas. 1  am  not  going  to  be  defeated  now 
when  they  are  almost  in  my  hands." 


"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  them?'' 
asked  Bill,  very  seriously. 

"  I  mean  to  hasten  on  to  Nashville  with 
them  and  place  them  in  the  hands  of  Gen- 
et alBuell.  You  seel  am  vgry  frank  with 
you.  There  is  no  use  iu  your  trying  to  escape 
me.  I  don't  want  to  have  any  further  diffi- 
culty with  you,  and  I  see  only  one  way  out 
of  this  trouble.    You  must  come  with  me." 

"With  yonV  Never!"  exclaimed  Bill, 
springing  up  and  making  a  move  to  draw 
his  pistol. 

Phil  raised  his  own  arm.  A  pistol  gleamed' 
in  the  face  of  the  Confederate 

"I  tell  you.  Bill,  you  only  make  matters 
worse  by  resisting.  I  mean  what  I  say. 
Those  dispatches  are  going  to  Nashville.  If 
you  refuse  to  give  them  up,  why,  then  I 
must  take  you  also." 

An  expression  of  suppressed  rag"?  burst  from 
the  lips  of  the  discomfltted  soldier,  but  he 


Phil  "  Get  up  and  come  with  me.  Remem- 
ber that  I  shall  not  take  my  eyes  off  you,  so 
any  attempt  at  escape  will  compel  me  to 
deal  severely  with  you.    Come!" 

The  Confederate  obeyed.  There  was  uo 
other  alternatiie. 

The  young  scout  led  the  way  back  through 
the  bushes  to  the  nook  where  he  bad  left  his 
horse  standing. 

"  Mount!"  he  said,  laconically. 

Bill  sprung  into  the  saddle,  and  Phil 
bounded  lightly  up  behind  hira. 

"This  makes  a  heavy  load,  but  this  horse 
is  a  powerful  animal,  and  can  carry  us  for  a 
time,  at  least." 

Thus  the  two  set  out  for  the  camp  of  Gen- 
eral Buell. 

As  yet  Phil  had  not  seen  the  papers  he  so 
sincerelj'  coveted— the  dispatches  to  Van 
Uoru  and  Price.  Still  he  was  very  positive 
they  were  concealed  upon  the  person  of  the 
man  who  sat  before  him,  and  he  determined 
that  nothing  should  prevent  hira  from  ob- 
taining them. 

Slipijery  though  the  country  road  was, 
they  made  fair  progress,  for  Phil  urged  the 
horse  on  at  the  highest  possible  rate  of 
speed. 

Toward  noon  they  were  passing  through  a 
lonesome  piece  of  wood  and  on  either  hand 
nothing  but  interminable  forests  were  to  he 

The  road  dwindled  down  till  it  becaiiu- 
little  more  than  a  bridle-path. 

While  threadingthis  dreary  way  Phil  vraf 
startled  by  the  sudden  noise  of  pursuing 
horsemen. 

Almost  before  he  could  spur  on  his  horse, 
there  shot  around  a  turn  in  the  road  a  troop 
of  Confederates.  l 

There  was  little  use  to  attempt  escape  by 
flight,  with  the  double  load  his  horse  bore. 
Something  must  be  done,  and  that,  too,  at 
once. 

"Give  me  the  dispatches!"  he  said,  in  a 
commanding  tone.  "It  you  besilate  or  re- 
fuse I  will  not  be  rospunsible  for  the  lesiill,' 

The  Confederate  f.  It  llie  r.ild  mu/zic  of  :i 
revolver  pressed  clo^e  a^'aiiist  his  t.-ni|)U-. 

"Have  you  no  mercy  V'  lie  ciiefl,  lr..!iiselv. 
"I  promised  Bud  that  I  would  guard  this-- 
papers  with  iiiv  life.  Yet  here  you  compel 
me  to  yield  tiiini    up   so    tamely   that  '  '•■■■' 


iket 


lam 


"  Don't  stop  to  talk.  It  is  too  late  for  that 
now.    Be  quick  with  the  dispatches." 

"  Curse  you,  you  shall  repent  this!"  was 
the  reply  of  the  rebel,  as  he  plunged  his 
hand  into  his  breast  pocket. 

In  another  moment  Phil  held  between  his 
flngHis  the  blood-sfaineii  package  containing 
the  dispatches  he  had  sought. 

Hiding  them  in  his  own  bosom,  he  said, 
sharply : 

"  Now  get  down !  I  cannot  carry  you  fur- 
ther." 

"  You  intend  to  leave  me  here  to  receive 
the  punishment  of  a  traitor  for  giving  up 
the  message  I  should  have  delivered  only  to 
General  Price.    This  is  terrible !" 

"Get  down  instantly  or  I  will  push  you 
off!"  repeated  Phil,  bringing  the  horse  to  a 
halt. 

The  Confederate  half  jumped,  half  fell  to 
the  ground,  where  he  stood  waiting  the  ap- 
proach of  the  horsemen  in  the  rear. 

Quick  as  thought  Phil  Lamonte  "iis  hur- 
rying onward. 

His  horse,  relieved  of  its  extra  liuiilr-ii,  and 
smarting  under  the  spurs  ol  our  loin,  soon 
placed  a  considerable  distanre  bclv.  I'cn  liiiu 
and  the  following  party  which  hail  drawn 
up  where  he  had  left  Phil,  whose  story  they 
eagerly  listened  to. 

It  was  now  a  race  for  life. 

Phil  knew  that  if  he  fell  into  the  dutches 
of   the   Confederates,   now    that  they    had 


THE  WATl  LIBRARY. 


learned  that  he  had  iu  his  possessiou  the 
papers  Beauregard  supposed  by  this  time  al- 
most at  their  destiuation,  he  eould  expect 
nothing  but  death  as  a  spy. 

Ou  the  other  hand,  could  he  only  leaeh 
Nashville,  which  he  was  rapidly  nearing.aud 
aoquaint  General  Buell  of  the  contents  of 
the  letters,  he  felt  sure  that  it  might  be  the 
means  of  foiling  some  scheme  the  rebels  had 

These  thoughts  nerved  him  to  desperation. 
He  must  reach  Nashville! 

It  was  not  long  before  be  saw  his  pursuers 
agaiu  take  up  the  chase,  and  by  watching 
.  them  cicsely  he  cciuld  perceive  that  there 
existed  among  tlu-in  intense  excitemeut. 

yelling  fieitely  ;iiicl  cutting  the  sides  <it  their 
horses  deeply  "illi  fliespui. 

Half  an  hour  did  not  lessen  llic  distance 
betweeu  tlie  two  jiarties.  Eacli  held  his 
own  remaikaoly,  and  the  heart  of  theyoung 
Unionist  began  to  bound  with  hope  that 
even  yet  he  might  avoid  an  encounter  with 
the  troop  behind  him. 

This  hope  had  siareely  come  into  exist- 
ence, however,  when  his  horse  dropped  from 
the  steady  gallop  it  had  kept  up  so  long  into 
a  broken  gait. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  attempted  to  rouse 
the  animal  to  take  up  its  former  pace.    Evi- 
dently it  was  exhausted. 
Here  was  a  dangerous  position. 
Moment  after  luomeiit  flew  by  on  wings  of 
lightning,  and  tlieCimfederates  were  gaining 
upon  him  at  af.arful  rate. 
What  could  he  do? 

A  dozen  putts  further  afid  his  horse  began 
to  tremble  uutler  linu. 

A  rod  further  and  it  sunk  in  a  heap  in  the 
road. 

The  epot  where  the  horse  dropped  was 
very  close  to  a  thicket,  so  close  that  by 
crawliug  ou  his  face  a  few  feel,  Phil  was  able 
to  uain  a  place  iu  which  to  conceal  himself. 
Once  iuside  the  bushes  he  run  quickly 
back  toward  the  approaching  band  of  horse- 
men. 

As  they  came  up,  he  crouched  low  down 
beside  the  narrow  road,  so  near  to  the  edge 
of  the  undergrowth  that  he  could  easily 
watch  the  movements  of  the  Confederates. 

Like  the  wiud  the  main  body  of  the  horse- 
men swept  past  him. 
Then  a  few  stragglers  came  up. 
The  last  of  these  was  e-xactly  opposite  Phil 
when,  with  a  bound  like  a  tiger,  he  cleared 
the  thicket  and  fastened  himself  upon  the 
brid le  of  the  animal. 

Whirling  the  horse  aside  like  a  flash,  Phil 
half  dragged  man  and  beast  into  the  thicket. 
^  So  quickly  had  this  been  done  that  the  rebel 
fiad  not  had  time  to  raise  so  much  as  a  fin- 
ger, and  only  when  a  thundering  blow  from 
Phil  brought  him  to  the  earth  did  heseem  to 
realize  the  danger  of  his  position.  But  it 
was  then  too  late,  for  he  fell  unconscious  at 
the  feet  of  the  daring  young  man. 

With  a  haste  born  of  his  desperate  posi- 
tion, Phil  stripped  off  the  uniform  of  the 
Confederate,  and  putting  it  on  over  his 
own  he  mounted  the  horse  and  rode  quickly 
toward  the  place  where  the  Confederate 
troop  had  halted  arouriil  his  worn-out  steed. 
It  was  evitleiit  that  his  escape  from  the 
spot  where  lit^  hiitl  fallen  had  not  been  seen, 
for  the  hrst  words  of  the  leader  of  the  Con- 
federates w  tre : 

"  The  felltiw  must  have  been  swallowed  up 
by  the  earth.  My  eyes  were  riveted  upon 
this  linr<i'  iT-nm  the  moment  he  dropped,  and 
I  know  he  could  not  have  got  away  without 
my  seeing  hiui." 

"But  he  must  have  done    so."  followed 

another  membei  of  the  party.    "This  is  not 

the  day    of    niii-aeles.    We   shall    And    him 

skulking  somct>  lu-re  near  by." 

I       "In  that  c:i>f  \i  e  are  losing  time,"  pursued 

theleailer.     ■Iiiiothe   bushes  and   hunt  for 

I  him.     We  want  him  alive,  but  it  worstcomes 

;  to  worst  don't  let  him  escape." 

Here  was  the  opportunity  Phil  had  hoped 
i  for. 

;      The  Confederates  scattered  widely,  disap- 
I  pearing  one  by  one  in  the  forest  adjacent  to 
the  point  where  the  dashing  young  scout  had 
last  made  his  appearance. 

Seizing  this  auspicious  moment  our  hero 
touched  his  horse's  side  lightly,  and  the 
beast  sped  away  along  the  road  toward 
Nashville. 

It  could  be  only  a  short  time  before  this 
daring  feat  would  be  discovered,  for  the 
search  in  the  bushes  must  soon  bring  to  light 
the  soldier  who  had  been  left  insensible  be- 
side the  road  ;  and  Phil  resolved  to  make  the 
most  of  the  chance  he  had  secured. 

Sooner  than  he  had  deemed  likely  there 
came  from  the  rear  yells  betokening  the  dis- 
covery of  the  rebel. 
U 


The  forest  rung  with  the  shouts  of  baffled 
and  enraged  men,  and  this  sound  lent  new 
energy  to  tlie  lutivcments  of  Phil  Lamoute. 

"The  y  shall  IIikI  lue  game,"  he  muttered. 
"(Inly  tvlitn  litis  Ittirse  fails  me  shall  thev 
ovcihaulutf.' 

An.ltiu,,.!,  hetlfv. 

The  forest  lay  behind  him  in  a  short  time, 
and  he  swung  at  a  steady  gallop  out  upon 
a  smooth  highway,  leading  through  great 
plantations,  now  lying  silent  and  deserted  in 
consequence  of  the  military  operations  iu  the 
vicinity. 

Up  to  the  present  not  a  man  of  the  troop 
behind  him  appeared  in  sight. 

This  seemed  a  little  strange  to  Phil. 

llail  they  given  up  the  chase?  This  seemed 
liiiidly  probable. 

If  t  111  se  men  had  been  detailed  from  Beau- 
it^giinls  army  to  pursue  and  overtake  him  if 
pitssihle  as  a  spy,  it  was  by  no  means  likely 
they  w  imlii  abandon  the  chase. 

Now  that  Ihty  knew  he  had  the  dispatches 
which  hml  been  .sent  to  the  rebel  generals  in 
Arkansas,  they  had   a  double  reason  for  his 


ville. 

Through  a  rift  in  the  dun  black  clouds  the 
sun,  now  low  iu  the  westein  sky,  cast  its 
pale  rays  over  the  scene. 

Far  iu  the  distance  the  spires  of  Nash- 
ville glittered  in  the  sunset. 

The  sight  brought  hope  to  the  heart  of 
Phil  Lamonte. 

In  an  hour  more  he  would  place  in  the 
bauds  of  General  Buell  the  precious  letters. 

He  drew  his  horse  to  a  walk.  It  seemed 
safe  to  give  the  animal  a  breathing  spell. 

Ata  point  wliere  the  r.iail  forked  off  at 
right  angles  with  tin-  otic  he  had  been  fol- 
lowing he  haltfil  mill  lisli-nid. 

Ahead  of  him  sirttthtil  a  gloomy  forest. 
It  looked  so  dark  and  foreboding  that  he 
hesited  a  moment  before  entering  it. 

He  wished  he  were  on   the  other  side  of  it. 

That  instant  a  puff  of  smoke  rolled  up 
from  the  wood  near  by. 

A  sharp  report  woke  the  echoes. 

The  horse  Phil  rode  gave  a  cry  almost  hu- 
man, and  sunk  dead  in  its  tracks. 

Struggling  to  free  himself  from  the  stir- 
rups, the  scout  heard  a  wild  shout  of  tri- 
umph, and  out  of  the  cross-road  sprung  the 
band  of  Confederates  whom  he  thought  now 
far  in  the  rear. 

They  had  passed  around  him  through  the 
forest,  and  cut  off  his  further  flight. 

Before  Phil  could  take  a  step  toward 
secreting  himself  he  was  surrounded  by  the 
Confederates  who  with  drawn  weapons 
crowded  closely  about  him. 

"Aha!  you  infernal  Yank!  So  we  have 
you  after  all!"  sneered  the  leader  of  the 
baud  pushing  his  way  to  the  side  of  Phil. 

"  May  I  ask  what  you  want  of  me? 'said 
the  scout,  calmly.  "  I  have  a  right  to  know 
why  you  have  shot  my  horse  at  least." 

"  We  want  you  because  we  know  that  you 
are  a  Union  spy,"  was  the  response.  "  That 
would  be  reason  enough  ;  but  we  have  fur- 
thercause.  You'resuspeeted  of  havingahand 
m  theshootingof  Col.  Pontneroy  last  night, 
and  you  have  upon  j;ou  messages  taken  from 
our  men  which  you  intend  to  get  into  camp 
with.  But  you  have  missed  this  time.  Oliver 
Oglethorpe  never  fails  iu  his  plans." 

"  Ha !  then  I  have  you  to  thank  for  this.  I 
remember  you  now,"  and  Phil  scrutinized 
the  face  of  the  man  before  him.  "I  know 
you,  and  can  say  that  1  never  heard  any 
good  of  you." 

The  young  man  looked  his  rival  squarely 
in  the  eyes  as  he  spoke  and  watched  closely 
for  the  result  of  his  words. 

A  deadly  pallor  rested  on  the  face  of  Ogle- 
Here  was  the  incentive  he  needed  to  pre- 
cipitate a  quarrel. 

"Take  that  for  your  insult! '.he  exclaimed, 
flercely  dealing  a  blow  at  Phil. 

Springing  aside,  Phil  escaped  the  thrust, 
and  returned  the  stroke  with  telling  force, 
sending  the  Confederate  reeling  several  feet 
away. 

Like  a  flash,  Oglethorpe  drew  his  pistol. 

He  was  not  any  quicker  than  Phil  La- 
monte. 

Thus  the  two  men  stood  face  to  face, 
scarcely  three  paces  separating  them. 

It  was  a  moment  of  deepest  peril  for  Phil 
Lamonte. 

For  well  did  he  know  that  if  by  any  good 
fortune  he  succeeded  in  disarming  his  foe 
there  were  ranged  around  him  a  score  of 
soldiers  who  would  not  hesitate  a  moment 
to  shoot  him  to  the  heart. 

Ere  yet  a  move  had  been  made,  a  steed, 
black  as  night  came  crashing  out  of  the  for- 


est, tearing  straight  down  upon  the  group  of 
horsemen. 

Upon  its  bat^k  a  man,  every  feature  of 
whom  was  concealed  from  sight. 

He  touched  neither  rein  nor  spur,  but  in 
his  hand  appeared  a  peculiar  weapon,  shaped 
like  the  club  of  a  policeman. 

Plunging  into  the  midst  of  the  Confeder- 
ates, this  singular  horseman  dealt  blows 
about  him  which  hurled  those  who  came 
within  his  reach  to  the  ground  as  if  a  thun- 
derbolt had  struck  them. 

Shot  after  shot  was  Hied  in  rapid  succes- 
sion upou  the  stranger.  Still  he  was  nn- 
harined. 

Finally,  leaning  from  his  saddle,  he  drew 
Phil  Lamoille  up  beside  him,  and,  swifter 
than  thought,  darted  down  the  forest  road. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A 

GUMPS 

E  AT  THE 

■AS'l 

.\gaiu 
Ctilonel 

NvJr 

Ct.i'if.  ," 

Fo'i 
lltf 

must 
ilueroy 

•eturn  to   t 

bet 

t'tVt 

narters  of 

s  ti  man, 
.ice  of  the 
■e  that  he 

mainia 

I'l'li'i 

eu 

here  to 
iguorai 

yoi 

tell  11, 

llM.ll.Jf, 

hi's'.-ilf'iiV-t. 

your  visit 
f  here  in 
1  end." 

ulei 


plied  : 

"Soon  enough  shall  you  ne answered,  Nor- 
man Fontneroy,  and   when  I  do  speak  you 
will  wish  I  had  forever  remained  silent." 
The  tone  was  earnest  and  calm. 
The  colonel  tried  to  raise  himself  on  his 
couch. 
"Great  God!    Is  it,  can  it  he  that  I  look 

upou " 

"  Arthur  St.  Clair?    Y'ou  do." 
With  these  words  the  stranger  put  up  .is 
hands. 

An  instant  later  he  let  fall  a  mass  of  hair 
from  his  face,  and  revealed  the  features  of 
a  man  hardly  thirty,  and  handsome  as  an 
Apollo. 

Fontneroy  sunk  back  upon  his  pillow, 
pale  as  death,  and  trembling  iu  every  limb. 

"  Well,  lam  at  your  mercy.  You  can  do 
with  me  as  you  wil',  '  hesai<i,  feebly. 

"1  have  come  to  you  to-day  for  this  pur- 
pose only  :  You  are  deceivingLaura  Doane." 
"Laura  Doane!    What  do  you   know  of 
her?    You  venture  too  far,  man." 

"You  tell  me  that!  You  in  whose  heart 
nothing  of  good  lies !  I  will  speak  further. 
Noteveu  here  will  I  stop.  Yon  must  cease 
your  attention  to  her." 

"You  miserable  villain!  You  come  here 
and  dictate  to  me  what  I  shall  and  shall  not 
do.  I'll  crush  you  as  I  would  a  viper  under 
my  feet.  Why,  I  could  cause  your  arrest 
for  a  criminal— a  would-be  assassin.  And 
yet  you  have  the  audacity  to  speak  to  ine 
like  this!" 

Fortneroy'seyes  flashed  with  an  unwont- 
ed brilliancy,  and  his  clinched  hand  was  up- 
held toward  his  visitor. 

Perhaps   you  might  do  this,  Fortueroy, 
you  won't,"  was  the   measured  reply. 
"1  only  wish  you  would  iittenipt  it.    I  think 
you  would  be  the  Ins.i-  in  such  a  case." 

"Press  me  mucli  oai.l.-r  timl  I  swear  I  will 
doit,  though  itct.stiiH-  .  \  .i  viljiiig!  I  tell 
you,  you  have  can  it..  I  i  Ins  thi'uir  ttiofaral- 
ready.  Even  an  aiiiiiKil  when  chased  till  it 
finds  itself  .at  bay,  will  at  length  turn  and 
face  its  enemies  defiautlv.  ' 

"You  are  right,  Fontneroy;  you  are  right  • 
for  that  reason  I  am  here  now.  Not  one 
word  of  complaint  shall  ever  cross  my  lips 
in  your  presi  iice.  I  am  beyond  all  that; 
but  when  yt.u,  you  talk  tome  of  beluga 
criminal,  an  assassin,  a  man  who  has  hunted 
you  tt>  desperation,  you  pass  beyond  the 
hounds  of  sense,  and  enter  those  of  purest 
farce!  But  you  tell  me  that  you  will  not 
listen  to  my  warning  that  never  more  must 
you  urge  your  suit  with  Laura  Doane.  I 
have  only  this  to  say  r  Unless  you  promise 
me  here  that  you  will  cease  deceiving  her  I 
will  go  to  her  myself  and  lay  before  her 
your  villainy!" 

"Y''ou  dare  not!  By  Heaven!  I  will  kill 
you  if  you  venture  it !  Am  I  such  a  coward 
that  I  will  tamely  cower  before  such  an 
outrage  as  this  ?  Scoundrel,  you  have  come 
to  me  when  I  am  weak  and  unable  to  defend 
myself  against  such  insults  as  these.  You 
show  how  base-born  you  are;  but  I  will  yet 
revenge  myself,  remember  that!" 

not  to  be  disturbed  by  these 


a  positive  answer  i 


THE  \^  AR  LIBRARY. 


Will  you  cease  your  course  toward  Laura 
noaue?" 

"  I  will  uot !  You  hare  your  answer.  You 
dare  not  oarry  out  your  threat  to  tell  lier 
the  old  past.    You  dare  not,  I  say!" 

"  Wait  and  see,"  was  the  response,  as  the 
stranger  rose.  "  When  we  meet  again,  Font- 
neroy,  you  shall  say  whether  you  were  right 
or  not.'  Adieu!" 

The  next  instant  the  place  where  he  had 
stood  was  vacant. 

Struggling  to  the  bell-pull  the  Confederate 
colouel  rang  loudly,  then  half  stumbled 
upon  his  couch  ouce  more. 

■I'll  do  it,"  he  hissed.  "The  villain  has 
pushed  me  too  closely.  I'll  let  the  law  take 
its  course  with  him." 

A  soldier  appeared  at  the  door. 

■'The  man  who  wounded  me  just  passed 
this  house.  Tell  Drury  this  and  give  him 
my  orders  not  to  let  him  get  away  alive.  Be 
quick  now." 

The  Confederate  disappeared. 

Five  minutes  later  Arthur  St.  Clair  hasten- 
ing toward  the  Doane  mansion  wsw  arrested 
{finn  his  reverie  by   the  clatter  of  pursuing 

"  II;i:  so  soon  as  this!  Well,  I  am  ready. 
(  hi.  Nnd,  ray  boy ;  we  have  a  race  ahead." 

^s  if  understanding  the  words  of  his  mas- 
ti>i,  ll/c-  noble  animal  fairly  Hew  over  the 
ground,  causing  his  beautiful  mane  to 
strcuiu  out  behind  like  silken  threads. 

In  a  brief  space  of  time,  however,  the  pur- 
suing force  came  in  sight  not  far  in  the  rear. 
-Haifa  dozen  rifle-balls  whizzed  through 
the  air.  This  showed  that  he  was  witbm 
reach  of  the  Confederate  weapons. 

"  I'll  show  you  a  little  trick,  I  think,"  said 
the  disguised  man,  as  the  second  round  of 
bullets  cut  the  air. 

Sliuffling  off  a  worn  and  soiled  coat  which 
con.-Kaled  a  better  suit,  the  man  waited  for 
the  next  shot  from  his  pursuers. 

When  it  camt  he  dropped  the  bridle  to  the 
ground,  and  threw  himself  low   down    upon 


coat  he  had  let  fall  bore  eviry  appearance 
of  a  man  shot  from  the  saddle. 

A  yell  of  triumph  burst  from  the  Confed- 
erates. They  believed  they  had  brought 
down  their  enemy. 

Riding  almost  breathlessly  up,  thev  halted 
around  the  garment  St.  Clair  had  cast  off, 
when  a  howl  of  rage  rent  the  air. 

They  saw  in  a  moment  the  deception  which 
had  been  practiced   upon   them;  but   it  was 

When  they  were  ready  to  take  up  the 
cha.se  again  the  object  of  their  pursuit  had 
vanished  as  it  into  space. 

For  two  hours  the  search  was  kept  up. 
Tain  were  all  the  endeavors  of  the  Confeder- 
ates to  determine  the  whereabouts  of  St. 
Clair. 

Cursing  loudly  and  dreading  the  reproval 
of  Foutneroy  upon  their  return,  the  troop 
jode  back  to  camp. 

Meantime  where  was  St.  Clair 'r 

Seeing  the  troop  of  horsemen  draw  reiu  at 
the  spot  where  his  coat  lay,  and  knowing 
that  their  attention  was  no  longer  upon  him 
he  turned  his  horse  abruptly  to  one  side  and 
plunged  deeply  info  the  forest  beside  the 
road. 

Making  a  wide  detour  he  changed  his 
course  at  the  end  of  an  hour,  and,  with  the 
accuracy  of  one  who  has  perfect  knowledge 
of  the  section  of  the  country  around  him, 
emerged  exactly  in  the  rear  of  the  grand  old 
house  of  the  Doanes. 

"  I  said  I  would  do  it,  and  I  will  not  break 
my  promise!"  muttered  the  stranger,  as  he 
dismounted  and  secured  his  horse  within 
ea«v  reach  should  he  be  surprised.  "  Font- 
ii.-iuv  >li:illlparn  that  he  told  the  truth  when 
)ii->;li-1  that  the  hunted  stag  finally  turns 
:ii;;uii-^i  its  |)i'i!iecutors.  that  the  sting  of  the 
.si-iii)i-in  cumiof  be  borne  forever." 

Making  his  way  up  to  the  mansion,  he 
asked  for  Laura,  and  a  few  minutes  after- 
ward he  was  sitting  face  to  face  with  her  in 
the  parlor. 

The  gii  1  was  pale,  still  lovely  as  ever.  The 
effects  of  the  late  scenes  of  e.xcitement  had 
told  upon  her. 

"You,  no  doubt,  wonder  at  this  intrusion, 
and  think  it  unwarranted,  perhaps,  that  a 
stranger  should  come  to  you  in  the  way  I 
have.  I  am  not  without  ray  reasons  for  so 
doing.  ' 

The  man's  words  were  so  utterly  at  vari- 
ance with  his  personal  appearance  that  Lau- 
ra, from  that  moment,  knew  that  he  was  iu 
disguise. 

"I  must  confess  to  some  little  curiosity," 
she  said,  smiling.  "  A  woman  is  supposed  to 
)■■•  -I  •Mirioiis  creature,  vou  know." 


A  grave  expression  settled  upon  the  feat- 
ures of  Laura's  visitor. 

"  Mine  is  an  errand  which  cannot  bring 
you  imraediate  happiness.  Miss  Doane;  yet 
i  am  fully  sure  that  when  you  are  over  the 
sharp  paug  my  words  bring  you,  you  will  be 
thankful  to  him  who  now  speaKS  to  you. 
You  have  a  lover.  Colonel  Fontneroy.  " 

Laura  started  quickly,  and  a  look  of  ter- 
ror depicted  itself  on  her  countenance. 

Why  was  it  that  her  lover's  name  had 
never  brought  her  the  peace  of  mind  she  had 
a  right  to  expect  ? 

Why  must  thoughts  of  liiin  ever  be  coupled 
with  feelings  of  unrest  aud  forebodings  of 
something  awful,  something  indefinite  and 
incomprehensible,  yet  awful'/ 

'•  I  percieve  you  start.  Believe  me,  I  would 
not  say  one  word  to  cause  you  needless  pain. 
Neither  do  I  come  to  you  for  the  purpose  of 
striking  any  man  behind  his  back.  I  am  not 
a  coward.  I  am  here  for  your  good,  to 
thwart  the  schemes  of  as  infamous  a  villain 
as  treads  the  earth  !" 

Laura  sprung  to  her  feet,  a  gleam  of  fire 
lighting  her  eye. 

"Of  whom  do  you  speak?  Certainly  not 
of  Colonel  Fontneroy  ?  He  is  the  very  soul 
of  honor.  I  will  not  listen  to  words  like 
these." 

"Listen,  then  judge,  "  was  the  calm  re- 
sponse. "First,  let  me  tell  you  that  I  shall 
utter  no  word  which  is  not  as  true  as  that 
the  sun  shines  in  the  sky.  Lady,  there  was 
once,  not  long  ago,  a  home  so  happy  that 
God's  purest  blessing  seemed  to  rest  upon  it 
like  a  curtain  of  love  forever.  One  man  and 
one  woman,  uot  more  than  two  yetirs  wed- 
ded, knowing  the  love  of  no  one,  save  their 
own.  dwelt  in  that  home. 

"  Even  as  the  serpent  entered  the  home  of 
that  llrst  couple  long  ago,  so  that  same  slimy 
reptile  crept  into  this  peaceful  abode. 

"  He  stole  away  the  love  of  that  wife  once 
devoted  and  true.  He  changed  that  hus- 
band into  a  common  criminal,  wallowing  iu 
Ihe  gutter.  He  caused  the  arrest  of  that 
husband  for  a  forgery  done  in  an  hour  of 
drunken  niaduess,  and  stayed  not  his  hand 
fill  he  saw  liiin  shut  up  behind  prison  bars, 
a  felon  in  the  eyes  of  the  law. 

"  He  kept  on  till  he  brought  that  wife  in 
o  the  grave.    Then,  and   there  only. 


did! 


!  pail 


"  Need  I  say  what  name  that  serpent  bore? 
It  was  Norman  Fontneroy  !" 

Listening  with  wide,  staring  eyes,  as  the 
stranger  proceeded  with  his  story  a  hand,  as 
of  ice,  seemed  to  close  slowly  around  the 
heart  of  poor  Laura  Doane. 

With  a  cry  she  pressed  her  hands  tightly 
over  her  forehead,  and  fell  insensible  into 
the  arms  of  St.  Clair,  who  sprung  at  that  in- 
stant to  her  side. 

Placing  her  gently  upon  the  sofa,  he  pa- 
tiently waited  for  her  to  recover  conscious- 
ness. When  that  moment  arrived,  Laura 
said  : 

"  Strange  man,  do  you  know  this  is  true? 
God  pity  me!" 

"  Do  I  know  it  is  true  ?  Would  to  Heaven 
I  did  not.  Here  before  you,  with  the  Maker 
as  my  witness,  I  tell  you  what  I  have  said  is 
true!  I  could  Bay  more.  I  know  it  is  not 
needed.  This  is  hard  for  you  to  hear,  but  it 
IS  better  that  you  know  it  now." 

"  Better !  From  what  has  it  not  saved  me! 
I  shudder  to  think  of  what  might  have  come 
to  me  but  for  this.  But  I  will  wring  the 
story  from  his  own  lips.  I  must  know  more 
than  this,  and  from  him  only  will  I  ask  it." 

"  Let  that  be  as  you  wish,  I  have  no  more 
to  say.  But  stay;  I  have  something  further 
to  tell  you.  Not  content  with  compassing 
your  destruction,  he  is  plotting  with  a  fiend 
like  himself  to  destroy  the  happiness  of  Mol- 
ly Grame." 

"  My  cousin  !  What  is  this  you  say  ?  Speak 
quickly." 

"They  intend  she  shall  wed  Oliver  Ogle- 
thorpe." 

"That  villain!" 

"This  I  have  but  recently  learned.  At 
this  moment  Oglethorpe  and  his  jiaid  emis- 
saries are  on  the  track  of  brave  Phil  La- 
inonte,  who  stands,  as  he  believes,  in  the  way 
of  his  own  success.  I  fear  that  evil  may  have 
befallen  him." 

"This  is  terrible!  And  1,  I  had  ever 
dreamed  him  so  true  and  so  noble!" 


dow,  she  said : 

"  Was  this  the  secret  of  the  dreadful  mis- 
givings which  have  always  possessed  me 
since  I  knew  him  ?  It  must  be  true.  It  must 
be." 

Then  coming  back,  she  continued: 

"  Where  is  Philip  Laraonte?" 

"  He  escaped  from  the  hands  of  tlieeueiuy 


when  surrounded  in  this  house,  and  hunietl 
to  overtake  a  Confederate  scout  who  was 
bearing  dispatches  to  a  distant  point,  intend- 
ing to  coiivhv  them  to  Nashville,  if  success- 
ful.    By  this  lime  he  should  be  there." 

■■  Molly  luiist  know  of  thisplan  against  her 
and  lier  lover.  Brave  Phil!  He  must  not 
fall  for  her  sake.  Can  you  do  anything  to- 
ward putting  him  on  his  guard  ?" 

"  I  shall  at  once  bend  my  euergies  in  that 
direction.  I  pledge  myself  to  do  all  I  can. 
Now  1  must  say  farewell.  Pardon  me  for  tho 
pain  1  have  caused  you.    Adieu." 

In  a  moment  he  had  gone. 

Rushing  into  Molly's  room  the  excited 
Laura,  with  glittering  eyes,  told  the  tale  t« 
which  she  had  just  been  a  listener. 

Many  were  the  interruptions  which  the 
sweet  little  cousin  made,  and  wrathful  wer» 
her  exclamations  when  she  knew  the  plot 
against  Phil  Lamonte. 

"And  you  are  at  heart  a  rebel,  Laura? 
You  sympathize  with  such  men  as  these  ? 
Shame— shame  upon  you!  I  should  think 
this  would  be  enough  to  turn  you  from  such 
a  horde  of  fiends!" 

"  But,  Molly,  it  is  not  men,  but  principles, 
I  uphold." 

"  The  principles  are  just  as  false  as  the 
men  who  are  defending  them.  Both  are  de- 
ceptive and  must  fall." 


heart  all  on  fire. 

"  But  they  shall  not  kill  Phil  Lamonte.  He 
is  too  good  aud  brave  to  fall  by  the  weapons 
of  such  a  set  of  poltroons." 


"You  shall  see.' 

And  Laura  did  see. 

Just  as  night  was  dropping  its  mantle  over 
this  Southern  homestead,  a  woman  rode  out 
of  the  yard  adjoining  the  Doane  mansion, 
and  set  her  face  lesolutely  toward  Nash- 
ville. 


It  ■ 


Molly  Grame. 


'HAPTER  X. 


RESCl  KP   FliliM    rilK  IICRNINI,  BUIIJ>lK*i. 

After  resi-uin^'  Phil  Lamonte  from  the 
clutches  of  his  i  ival  :Ln<l  fiiemy,  Oglethorpe, 
the  stranger  urged  Ins  horse  hotly  on  till 
they  had  left  the  Confederates  far  in  the 
rear. 

Not  a  word  had  been  as  yet  passed  between 
them. 

Phil,  though  wondering  much  who  thia 
bold  horseman  was,  and  why  he  had  hap- 
pened to  make  his  appearance  so  opportune- 
ly, chose  to  let  him  open  conversation  in  his 
own  time  and  way.  The  manner  in  whiek  " 
he  did  this  only  added  astonishment  to  our 
hero's  already  deep  surprise. 

"Are  the  dispatches  safe?" 

The  dispatches  I  What  did  the  man  mean  ? 
How  had  he  gained  his  information  reganl- 
ing  this  mission  of  Phil? 

Such  were  the  questions  which  run  through 
the  mind  of  the  scout. 

"  What  dispatches  do  you  refer  to?"  asked 
Phil,  guardedly. 

"  I  am  not  ignorant  of  your  mission,  sir," 
was  the  replyr  "  You  can  trust  me.  Though 
I  am  not  in  Union  uniform  my  heart  is  loy- 
al ;  I  wear  the  blue  in  my  bosom.  You  have 
been  following  Confederate  couriers  from 
Beauregard's  camp,  and  have  gained  from 
them  messages  to  Price  and  Van  Dorn.  Are 
they  safe? " 

Phil  sought  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  face 
of  this  stranger  who  had  such  perfect  knowl- 
edge of  his  own  movements,  but  the  twilight 


careful.  I  acknowledge  your  kindness  iu 
helping  me  out  of  what  promised  to  be  a 
tight  box;  but  I  do  not  know  you  well 
enough  to " 

"  I  will  prove  to  you  that  I  am  what  J  pre- 
tend to  be— a  friend.  I  come  here  direct 
from  the  home  of  the  Doanes." 

"Ah  !  you  know  them,  then  ?" 

"  Not  as  fully  as  I  could  wish ;  yet  some- 
what. I  know  that  Molly  Grame  loves 
you " 

"  Loves  me !  Then  you  know  more  than  I 
do.    Explain  yourself." 

"  It  is  not  my  right  or  province  to  do  that. 
She  will  prove  it  to  your  satisfaction  if  you 
ask  her.  I  know,  further  than  this,  that  you 
have  a  rival,  a  dangerous  man ;  no  other 
than  Oglethorpe,  the  leader  of  the  band 
from  which  you  have  just  escaped." 

"A  rival!  This  is  all  news  to  me.  I  did 
not  dream  of  such  a  thing.  Then  that  fel- 
low had  a  double  reason  for  desiring  ray  ar- 
rest. I  begin  to  see.  What  else  is  there  to 
tell  me,  strange  man  ?" 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


11 


As  Vf-I 
I  fear  (i 
cause.  " 


I  possihle  liusle  to 

exaet  ohitracter, 
ry  uear  to  the  Vr 


Phil,  tr 


Hai-e  your 

give;    yet,  it   shall 


le  city 
I  have 
you  are 


ereilter  exertions  than  ever.  Unless  I  die 
before  raiiinight,  Buell  will  have  all  the 
knowledge  the  Confederate  dispatches  can 
impart." 

"Good!    Now   we   are    neariog 
limits.    I   think  I    must  leave  you 

work  to  doelsewhere,  and  I  think    , 

out  of  danger  for  the  present  from  Ogle 
thorpe;  but  I  advise  you  to  keep  a  sharp  eye 
out  for  him.  He  is  tricky,  and  desperate, 
for  he  thuiks  you  stand  in  his  way." 

"Stay!"  exclaimed  Phil,  to  whom  this 
short  conversation  had  been  a  startling,  as 
well  iw  plewsiiiK  revelation;  "  I  must  know 
further  about  Molly  Grame.  Are  you  posi- 
tive  "  '^ 

"  Learn  all  you  would  know  from  her  lips. 
I  atu  away." 

The  next  moment  Phil  stood  alone  in  the 
dusk,  listening  to  the  clatter  ot  the  hoofs  of 
the  stranger's  horse  as  he  hastened  into  the 
dark. 

What  would  not  our  hero    have  given  at 
that  moment  to  have  been  placed  face    to 
face  with  pretty  Molly  Grame ! 
But  how  itnpossilile! 
Here  he  stood,  miles  away,  oi 
dangerous  moment. 

The  future  was  brighter,  however,  for  this 
little  gleam  of  sunshine. 

There  was  no  time  for  delay ;  onward  must 
be  his  watchword. 

In  the  light  of  history  we  know  what  im- 
portance attached  to  every  movement  of  the 
great  opposing  forces  at  the  time  of  which 
we  write. 
Let  US  look  for  a  moment  at  the  situation. 
Here,  at  Pittsburg  Laudiug  lay  General 
Graut,  who,  with  that  remarkable  foresight 
which  ever  characterized  him,  had  been 
pushing  toward  Corinth,  well  knowing  the 
importance  of  that  point,  but  who  was  now 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  General  Buell,  from 
Nashville. 

At  the  same  moment,  and  also  fully  ap- 
preciating the  fact  that  Corinth  was  an  ob- 
jective point  of  highest  value,  Beauregard 
had  liastened  thither. 

He  had  already  been  reinforced  by  the 
troops  of  General  Johnston  and  was  only 
resting  till  Price  and  Van  Dome  came  up  to 
strike  a  blow,  from  which  it  was  intended 
the  Unionists  never  should  recover. 
_  Totally  unaware  of  the  peril  of  Grant's 
position,  Buell  was  slowly  making  prepara- 
tions to  move  southward. 

Hence,  it  becomes  plain  that  it  was  of  the 
greatest  importance  that  General  Buell 
should  recognize  that  Grant  was  in  immi- 
nent danger,  and  hasten  to  his  rescue. 

Phil  Lamonte,  even  yet  ignorant  of  the 
real  value  of  the  papers  in  his  care,  never- 
theless, fell  that  not  an  instant  should  be 
lost  in  delivering  them. 

This  impression  had  been  made  more  vivid 
by  the  words  of  the  strange  man  who  had 
been  ot  such  use  to  him  that  night. 

To  us  they  now  seem  almost  prophetic. 
Danger  did  at  that  moment  lurk  near  the 
Union  cause. 

Pausing  not  an  instant  in  the  spot  where 
St.  Clair  had  left  him,  Phil  Lamonte  struck 
out  at  a  rapid  pace  for  the  city. 

Already  there  were  numerous  houses 
along  the  road,  and  he  expected  every  mo- 
ment to  hear  the  welcome  challenge  of  the 
pickets. 
Not  yet  was  he  out  of  dangei-,  however. 
Nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  the  Union  picket 
line,  when,  suddenly,  and  without  warning, 
Phil  heard  the  thunder  cf  approaching  horse- 


Had  1 
thorpe 
hero  wo 


,bje 


he  knew 
Spriugi 
now  apparently  d 


the  dark,  evil  face  of  Ogle- 
the  heail  of  that  band,  our 

11  lie  Uyiiig  troopers.     And 


thfii 


old  house, 
bliug  into 
Phil  waited  with    hushed   breath  the 
coming  of  his  pursuers. 

Not  long  had  he  to  wait,  for  he  had  barely 
left  the  highway  when  the  troop  came  in 
sight. 

The  presence  of  Phil  must  have  been  dis- 
covered, as  when  just  opposite  the  building 
where  he  had  attempted  to  conceal  himself 
the  baud  drew  up  and  came  to  a  dead  halt. 
A  crisis  was  at  hand. 

In  the  hope  that  a  close  search  of  the  old 
house    would    not    be   made,    Phil 


around  the  corner,  taking  oare  to  keep  in 
the  shadow,  and  finding  a  window  in  the 
rear  which  had  been  broken  in,  he  swung 
himself  lightly  through  the  opening. 

Landing  on  the  floor  inside  he  crept  noise- 
lessly along  a  dark  passage  till  he  ivaclied  a 
point  where  he  could  hear  what  was  going 
on  without. 

"  I  know  my  eyes  didn  t  deceive  me,"  a 
voice  said.  "  He  was  just  here,  not  two  min- 
utes ago,    and  I  reckon    he  can't  be  far  off 

"Well,"  said  a  man  whose  language  re- 
vealed to  Phil  the  presence  of  his  rival,  Ogle- 
thorpe, "  to  make  sure  about  the  matter  we 
had  belter  take  a  look  in  this  vicinity.  That 
old  house  yonder  would  make  an  excellent 
hiding  place  for  thefellow.  Half  a  dozen  of 
you  come  with  me,  and  we'll  go  through  the 
place.  The  rest  of  you  scour  the  grounds, 
and  remember  that  I'll  reward  the  man  who 
captures  him  or  shoots  him  as  he  stands!  " 

Phil's  hands  clinched  hard  together  as  he 
listened  to  this  cold-blooded  remark.    Ogle- 
thorpe's case   must  be   desperate  indeed 
urge  him  to  measures  so  severe. 

"A  reward  on  my  head,  eh?  lam  to  be 
shot  in  my  tracks  if  worst  comes  to  worst 
But  I  am  not  so  sure,  my  dear  sir,  that  anv 
man  will  claim  the  reward  you  offer.  '] 
rathe--  think  not.  Now  let  me  see.  A  hid- 
ing-place is  what  I  want  for  the  present." 

Darting  hither  and  thither  in  the  hope 
that  he  would  And  either  a  door  leading  up 
stairs  or  downward  into  the  cellar,  he  was 
startled  by  the  sound  of  a  hand  upon  the 
latch  in  front  of  the  house. 
Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost. 
Feeling  along  the  wall  Phil  discovered  an 
old-fashioued  lire-place,  and  above  yawned 
a  wide-throated  chimney. 

Quicker  than  a  flash  he  stooped  and 
crawled  under  the  mantel  up  into  the  chim- 
ney. Placing  his  hands  against  its  sides,  he 
drew  himself  upward  far  enough  to  be  out 
of  sight  from  below. 

Bracing  his  feet  in  front  of  him  with  his 
back  resting  upon  the  wall  behind,  he  wait- 
ed. 

His  place  ot  hiding  had  not  been  found  an 
instant  too  soon,  for  hardly  had  he  reached 
it  when  the  Confederates  burst  in  a  body 
into  the  building. 

Lights   soon    flashed    hither  and    thither 
through  every  room   from  cellar  to  garret. 
Each  nook  and  corner,  each  closet  and  out- 
of-the-way    place    was   explored    with    the 
thoroughness  which  desperation  alone  gives. 
"  You  see,  gentlemen,  he  is  not  here." 
The  speaker  was  Oglethorpe. 
"  Bill,  your  eyes  must  be  getting  poor,  cer- 
tainly." 

"I  reckon  I  wasn't  mistaken.  I  tell  you 
again  he  is  very  near  here.  He  may  not  be 
in  this  house;  1  didn't  say  he  was;  butyou'll 
see  I  am  right.  They  may  be  having  better 
luck  outside." 

"  vVe'll  make  sure  he  never  gets  out  of  this 
place  alive  at  any  rate,"  said  Oglethorpe,  "if 
he  is  hidden  away  in  some  hole   we  haven't 

stumbled  on.    Here,  b<  

this  infernal  old  shell 

places.    We'll    let    the    Yanks    know  we're 

near,  if  nothing  more." 

Phil  heard  these  words  with  a  feeling 
somewhat  akin  to  despair,  but  there  was 
mingled  with  it  a  stern  resolve  not  to  yield 
till  fate  compelled. 

Only  a  brief  space  of  time  elapsed  before 
the  crackling  of  flames  fell  upon  his  ears. 

The  command  of  Oglethorpe  was  being 
carried  out.  Fiendish  though  the  scheme 
was,  and  worthy  none  but  the  most  cruel 
and  inhuman  brain,  Oglethorpe  laughed 
wildly  as  he  saw  the  flery  demon  leap  from 
point  to  point  of  the  deserted  house. 

"  If  the  cursed  Union  spy  is  in  there,  and  I 
hope  he  is,  that'll  be  the  last  of  him  !  On. 
boys.    He's  safe  now!" 

Phil    heard    the    sound   of   the  retreating 
horsemeu.  then  he  leaped  to  the  floor. 
Now  for  escape ! 

He  must  show  Oliver  Oglethorpe  that  it 
was  not  so  easy  to  shake  him  off.  He  would 
reappear  to  him  when  least  he  expected  it 
and  avenge  this  insult. 

But  how? 

Look  where  he  might,  his  eyes  rested  on 
sheets  of  flame,,  growing  more  and  more  in- 
tense and  becoming  blinding  in  their  inten- 
sity. 

Hotter  and  hotter  grew  the  air. 

Heaven  !  must  he  suffocate  here? 

He  ran  from  place  to  place  in    the  great 

Everywhere  it  was  the  same. 

He  tried  again  and  again  to  reach  the  cel- 
lar, but  was  met  by  a  cloud  of  smoke  which 
sent  him  back  almost  stifled. 


It  was  of  no  use  ic  al'*impf  *o  mount  the 
rickety  stairs  which,  at  length,  iie  found 
In  fact,  the  danger  wi,uld  be  great  there. 

Must  he  then  fold  his  hands  and  submit  In 

Was'this  late? 

Thedi-<patches!  He  had  failed  to  earry 
out  his  purpose.  For  once  in  his  life  he  was 
forced  to  admit  defeat. 

It  was  a  sore  trial  for  him  to  make  this  ad- 
mission ;  yet  was  it  not  best  to  look  the  mat- 
ter square  in  the  face. 

All  llils  was  due  to  Oglethorpe. 

Would  Molly  Grame  now  accept  his  rival 
for  a  suitor? 

He  could  not  believe  it.  She  was  too  true 
a  woman,  too  pure  in  heart  to  havsaBTthiae 
to  do  with  such  a  miscreant. 

Beams  began  to  tumble  about  him,  spark* 
burned  the  floor  near  the  spot  wkere  ka 
stood. 

How  hot  it  was! 

Hark! 

Like  the  wing  of  a  rescuing  angel  soib»- 
thing  fell  over  the  head  and  shoulders  «f 
Phil  Lamonte. 

He  felt  himself  half  dragged,  half  led, 
through  a  sea  of  blinding  smoke  and  flama, 
by  a  passage  he  had  not  discovered ;  a  singu- 
lar faintness  came  over  him. 

When  it  was  over,  he  was  in  the  pure  ait 
of^ieaveu.jiud  a  hand  was  upon  his  brow. 

jman  ! 
CHAPTER  XI. 

A   BLOW   IN  THE   DARK. 

Phil  Lamonte,  revived  by  the  fresh  air, 
feeling  the  gentle  hand  of  the  unknown  be- 
ing upon  his  brow,  lay  still  for  several  min- 
utes, unwilling  to  move  lest  the  sweet  dream 
might  vanish  and  leave  him  naught  but  the 
stern  reality  of  that  burning  house. 

He  felt  the  woman— for  such  he  believed 
his  rescuer  to  be— bend  down  and  watch  for 
his  breathing,  and  the  soft  touch  of  her  An- 
gers upon  his  wrist  sent  his  blood  coursing 
like  the  mountain  rivulet  through  his  veins. 
Hewished  this  might  go  on  forever;  but 
suddenly  he  noticed  all  was  silent  about  him. 
Looking  up  quickly  he  saw  that  he  was 
alone. 
The  angel  had  flown. 

Phil  started  up,  and  put  his  hand  to  his 
row.     Was  this  indeed  all  a  dream  ? 
No. 

There  was  the  blazing  tenement  which  had 
D  recently  imprisoned  him.  The  timbers 
had  fallen  in  one  after  another,  leaving 
nothing  but  a  red  skeleton.  There  wa»  no 
doubt  about  it. 

Some  one,  a  woman,  had  saved   him   from 
imminent  peril. 
Who  was  that  woman  ? 
He  knew  of  only  one  in  all   the  world  who 
would  risk  so  much  for  his  sake,  and  he  had 
no  right  to  suppose  that  she  would  do  it. 
Must  the  question  remain  unanswered  ? 
He  tried  to    pierce    the   gray   curtain  of 
night  which  now  hung   heavy    abont  him, 
hoping  to  catch  some  glimpse  of  the  woman 
who  had  just  retreated  from  his  side. 
It  was  in  vain. 

Nothing  but  impenetrable  gloom  met  his 
eyes  save  where  the  old  house  was  oraokline 
into  ruins. 

Several  times  he  fancied  he  heard  foot- 
steps 'n  the  highway  beyond,  but  after  listen- 
ing earnestly  for  some  further  signs  of  an 
animate  object  he  decided  that  he  must  hava 
been  mistaken. 

"I am  certain  that  time  will  reveal  to  me 
the  truth  of  this  matter  which  is  now  little 
more  than  mystery,"  said  Phil,  as  he  groped 
his  way  toward  the  roao.  "1  would  Tike  to 
know  whether  I  am  right  or  not  in  thinking 
It  might  possibly  have  been  her!  Wouldn't 
I  like  to  know  that.  Pshaw!  Phil  Lamonte, 
you're  getting  sentimental,  and  it's  no  time 
for  sentiment.  On  to  Nashville,  must  be  my 
watchword,  so  here  I  go." 

Bounding  over  the  low  fence  which  ran 
along  the  highway,  the  young  man  started 
on  a  run  toward  the  city. 

In  half  an  hour  he  met  the  pickets,  and  in 
ashorttimethereafliihe  had  the  pleasure 
of  s  aiuliiis;  in  tin-  pnseii.'e  ..f  General  BueU. 
uenf]:t!.  our  hci'o  saiil,  tossing  down  a 
packa-K  upoi,  tl.e  talili-at  wiiich  Buell  sat, 
"  lifn'jiM.soMio  |,ai,.-rs  lint  were  not  intend- 
ed fur  1  TuuM  ,.v,  s.  As  yuM  willsee,  they  are 
addressed  to  Prue  and  Van  Dorn,  now  on 
their  way  from  Arkansas." 

Buell  took  a  glance  at  the  blood-stained 
and  crumpled  packet,  and  then  turned  his 
eyes  upon  the  young  man,  who  spoke  so 
calmly  about  this  matter. 

"  But  how  did  you  come  into  possession  of 
these  documents?    1  judge  they  have  been 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


You    (ire     right, 


they    have    been 


iTould  take  too  loug  for  me  to  tell  the  story 
ot  how  I  came  to  get  ou  the  track  of  these 
dispatohes.  It  is  not  of  much  importance 
anyway,  uow  that  they  are  here.  The  main 
point  is  to  make  available  the  information 
they  contain.  I  judge  no  time  Is  to  be  lost 
in  e.\aminiug  them." 

With  a  smile.  General  Buell  returned  to 
the  paper.s. 

He  liked  the  earnest,  uiutssuming  manner 
of  this  stranger. 

Opening  the  soiled  envelope,  he  spread  the 
papers  out  ou  the  table,  and'  bent  over  them 
for  some  time  in  silence. 

Then  he  exclaimed : 

"  Heavens !  Can  that  be  ?  See  here,  young 
man,  do  you  know  the  contents  of  this  pack- 
age?" 

"Not  a  word." 

"  You  may  have  performed  service  of  the 
greatest  value  to  the  Union  cause  by  bring- 
ing these  i>!ipers  here.  Let  me  tell  you  what 
they  revt-al.  The  Confi-fierates  intend  to 
move  up  to  Geuf  nil  (iraiit  secretly  and  at- 
tack him  iiUiiwait->'.  while  he  is  waiting  for 
me.  Tlic.<c  (lisiiiiti-lira  w.ti'  to  huny  I'rice 
and  Van  Dorii  up  to  rencli-r  as»islauee  in  this 
plan.  The  question  now  is,  can  I  reach 
Grant  in  time  to  avert  the  impending  dis- 
aster?" 

"  How  soon  can  we  move,  general  ?" 

"  Within  two  hours,"  said  Buell,  rising 
quickly,  and  pulling  a  bell-rope.  •'  I  am 
angry  with  myself  for  not  pushing  forward 
more  rapidly,  as  I  might  have  done  easily 
enough. 

A  messenger  appearing.  General  Buell 
gave  orders  in  a  quick,  e.xcited  way  for  the 
entire  force  under  his  command  to  get  under 
way  for  the  march  to  Pittsburg  Lauding. 

Unexpected  as  was  the  command,  in  a 
marvelous  short  space  of  time  all  was  com- 
motion among  the  troops. 

"  I  want  you  to  undertake  a  task  of  grave 
importance,  my  young  friend,"  said  General 
Buell,  after  meditating  a  while  over  the 
dispatohes  which  still  remained  on  the  table. 

"It  is " 

"To  carry  a  message  from  me  to  Grant. 
As  yet  he  is  ignorant  of  this  intended  move 
upon  him,  and  is  quietly  awaiting  my  ar- 
rival before  going  ou  to  Corinth.  I  waut  to 
acquaint  him  of  this  scheme  of  the  Confed- 
erates, and  at  the  same  time  inform  him 
that  I  shall  march  night  and  day  to  .ioin 
him.    Will  you  accept  the  commission  ?" 

"  General,"  was  the  dignified  reply,  as 
Phil  drew  himself  proudly  up,  "  if  you  think 
me  worthy  to  serve  you  and  my  country  in 
the  way  you  suggest,  I  am  happy  to  tell  you 
that  nothing  could  compel  me  to  refuse  the 
trust.    Write  out  the  message,  please." 

"You  are  a  true  soldier,'^ said  Buell.  "I 
wish  my  meu  were  all  like  you.  I  shall  not 
forget  to  speak  to  General  Grant  of  this  mat- 
ter at  the  earliest  possible  moment;  fori 
know  the  danger  I  ask  you  to  face  as  well  as 
you  do.  and  that  your  bravery  ought  not  to 
go  unrewarded." 

The  general  then  seated  himself  and  wrote 
rapidly  for  fifteen  minutes,  now  and  then 
stopping  to  consult  the  mutilated  Confeder- 
ate dispatches  before  him. 

At  the  end  of  that  time  he  folded  the  let- 
ter he  had  written,  and  sealing  it  placed  it 
in  the  bands  of  Phil  Lamonte,  saying : 

"There  is  what  I  wish  you  to  carry  to 
Grant.  I  need  not  tell  you  how  important 
it  is  that  he  receive  the  packet  as  soon  as 

r)8Sible.  I  believe  you  appreciate  that  as 
do." 


general." 

In  a  moment  he  was  gone. 

"  A  true  hero,"  said  General  Buell,  pacing 
up  and  down  his  room  with  a  thoughtful 
brow. 

As  for  our  hero,  looking  ahead  over  the 
route,  at  every  step  of  which  lurked  hidden 
peril,  when  he  went  forth  on  his  mission  it 
was  with  the  courage  which  ever  marks  the 
movements  of  a  brave  man. 


Applying  at  the  proper  place  he  obtained 
horse  suited  to  his  taste  in  every  way. 
Furnished  with  the  password,  he  delayed 


not  in  placing  the  city  of  Nashville   behind 
his  back. 

Although  he  was  constantly  i>ii  the  out- 
look for  Confederate  scouts,  witli  whom  the 
country  was  at  that  time  swarmmg,  his 
greatest  anxiety  was  lest  Oglethorpe,  sneak- 
ing like  a  serpent  in  the  grass,  should  inter- 


Not  that  he  feared  the  man  in  an  open- 
handed  contest,  but  this  he  knew  his  rival 
never  would  grant  him. 

Half  the  ni^ht  long  be  sped  on  his  way,  un- 
molested, and  hopeful. 

The  night  proved  more  auspicious  than  he 
had  feared. 

The  late  storm  had  spent  its  force  appar- 
ently for  the  present,  and  the  dun  black 
clouds  had  rolled  away  to  the  westwai-d, 
leaving  only  here  and  there  a  few  scattering 
flakes,  like  the  stragglers  of  a  retreating 
army. 

Descending  a  sharp  declivity  in  the  road, 
Phil  came  to  the  edge  of  a  rapid  stream,  shut 
in  on  every  hand  along  shore  by  crags  that 
seemed  almost  insurmountable. 

So  swift  was  the  current  that  he  hesitated 
to  attempt  to  ford  it  lest  his  horse  might  be 
swept  down  the  stream. 

He  remembered  that  there  had  formerly 
been  a  bridge  at  that  point.  The  recent 
heavy  tempest  had  carry  it  away. 

He  wondered  if  there  were  not  some  point 
either  above  or  below  which  would  afford  a 
better  crossing.  For  some  time  he  groped 
his  way  along  the  bank  where  the  rocks 
hung  beetling  above  his  head,  and  at  certain 
points,  he  was  compelled  to  dismount  and 
lead  his  horse  in  order  to  make  any  progress. 
The  hope  which  had  inspired  him  finally 
began  to  vanish,  and  there  tame  in  its  place 
a  grim  resolution  to  plunge  boldly  in  and 
fight  it  out  with  the  watery  element. 

This  determination  having  fully  taken 
possession  of  him  he  stood  for  a  moment  on 
the  shore  in  the  shadow  of  an  overhanging 
cliff  and  stroked  the  neck  of  his  beautiful 
steed. 

"Poor  old  fellow  !'  he  said,  "  it  is  worse 
for  you  than  for  me,  I  know  not  what  else  to 
do  but  to  drive  you  out  into  the  cuirent." 

With  these  words  he  mounted,  wben  sud- 
denly the  icy  muzzle  of  a  pistol  s^nt  a  chill 
through  his  whole  being. 

"I  know  what  you  will  do,  my  dear  sir," 
said  a  voice,  which  he  iustantly  knew  to  be 
that  of  his  evil  genius,  Oglethorpe ;  "  not  to- 
night will  you  ford  this  stream.  It  is  not 
set  down  in  the  book  of  fates  thus." 

"Well,   what  will  prevent   it?"  said   our 
hero,  calmly. 
"I  will." 

"You?  May  I  ask  who  you  are  ?" 
"Phil  Lamonte— you  know  who  I  am!" 
hissed  the  Confederate.  "  We  have  met  be- 
fore. You  escaped  me.  But  it  was  the  last 
time.  Oliver  Oglethorpe  never  misses  in  the 
end.    In  the  end,  understand." 

"  What  is  the  meaning   of   this    attack?" 
continued   Phil,    now   determined   to  draw 
from  the  lips  of  his  rival   the  true  object  he 
had  in  pursuing  him.    "I  am   a  stranger  to 
yon.    I  am  not  aware   that    I  have  injured 
you.    It  certainly  has  been    through  ignor- 
ance if  I  have." 
"The  folks  back  at  Corinth  want  you." 
"  But  that  isn't  your  motive  in  haunting 
me  like  this.    Ikuowit." 
There  was  a  moment's  silence. 
"  1  am  fool  enough  to  love  Molly  Grame." 
The     Confederate     spoke    like   one    halt 
ashamed  of  the  admission. 
"Well?" 
"She  loves  you," 

"Ah  !  she  never  told  me  so.  I  had  rather 
hear  it  from  her  own  'ips." 

"Make  the  most  of  the  knowledge.    Gain 
what  happiuessyou  can  outof  it;  for  Iswear 
never  shall  you  listen  to   those  words  from 
her." 
"  What  do  you  intend,  then  ?  ' 
Not  a  trace  of  fear  in  the  tone. 
"Stir  but  a  muscle  and  you    will  know 
sooner  than  you  think.    Phil  Lamonte,  I  am 
a  desperate  man.    I  have  followed  you  here 
to  rid  myself  of  your  presence.    If  I  cannot 
have  the  love  of  Molly  Grame,  you  shall  not, 
so  hear  me  Heaven !" 

At  that  moment  the  Confederate  gave  a 
shrill  whistle. 

The  echoes  took  up  the  sound  and  sent  it 
back  from  a  hundred  different  points  along 
the  stream. 

In  a  trice  a  score  of  men  leaped  from  their 
concealment  close  by,  and  sprung  to  the  spot 
where  their  leader  stood  with  his  weapon  yet 
upon  the  brow  of  Phil  Lamonte. 

"  Meu,"  said  Oglethorpe,  "  here  is  the  man 
we  have  been  seeking— the  Union  scout.  He 
is,  as  you  know,  just  from  the  quarters  of 
General  Buell,  where  he  has  been  to  deliver 
messages  taken  from  us.  The  result  may  be 
everlasting  ruin  to  us  if  we  do  not  take  vig- 
orous steps  to  arrest  the  disaster  he  hopes  to 
precipitate  upon    us.    What   shall   his  fate 

"Death!" 

The  word  sounded  hoUow  and  sepulchral. 

"By  what  mMUuf" 


"Let  him  find  a  grave  in  the  center  of  this 
stream,  the  noisy  Launton  !"  said  one  of  the 
number,  pointing  out  over  the  current. 

"  Agreed !"  was  the  united  response. 

Without  another  word  three  men  seized 
Phil,  and  piuioning  his  arms  to  his  side,  bore 
him  to  a  boat  which  they  drew  from  the 
bauk.  Lifting  him  in  they  rowed  rapidly 
into  the  middle  of  the  stream. 

Then  raising  him  they  held  him  over  the 
edge  of  the  boat  ready  to  hurl  him  over- 
board. 

As  they  stood  thus  with  the  young  man 
poised  in  mid-air  two  shots  rung  out  on  the 
still  night,  aud  two  of  the  Confederates 
dropped  dead  in  the  boat. 

Thenext  moment  a  second  boat  cleft  the 
water  and  came  to  a  pause  beside  that  which 
had  brought  Phil  thither. 

In  it  were  a  man  and  woman. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CABHYING  OUT  THE  COMPACT. 

Night  in  the  woods. 

Oglethorpe,  after  leaving  the  old  house 
near  Nashville  iu  flames,  spent  some  time  in 
skirmishing  around  in  that  vicinity  expect- 
ing momentarily  to  find  his  rival  lurking 
there. 

But  when  at  the  end  of  an  hour  the  mem- 
bers of  his  band  came  iu  one  by  one  report- 
ing no  success,  he  began  to  think  that  Phil 
had  indeed  perished  ui  the  burning  building. 
Perhaps  this  belief  was  strengthened  in  some 
degree  by  the  hope  he  cherished  that  it  might 

This  conclusion  haviug  been  reached,  the 
young  man  ordered  his  men  to  fall  backir+o 
the  wood  lying  a  mile  or  two  from  the  city 
and  encamp  for  the  night. 

The  location  selected  was  in  a  deep  ravine 
sheltered  in  every  direction  and  apparently 
safe  from  detection. 

Oglethorpe,  instead  of  hitching  his  horse 
with  those  of  the  men  who  followed  him, 
stole  away  in  the  darkness  and  directed  his 
steps  still  further  back  from  Nashville. 

"This  is  a  part  of  this  night's  work  that  I 
wish  was  over,"  he  muttered,  when  once 
fairly  on  the  way.  "  If  the  colonel  had  given 
it  to  some  other  mau  it  would  have  suited 
me  better.  I  would  not  have  undertaken  it 
had  not  thought  he  would  stand  by  me 


man,  and  without  cause,  sending  him  to  Davy 
Jones' Locker.  But  if  it  has  to  be  done,  and 
I  have  promised  it  shall  be,  why,  what  is  the 
use  in  having  conscientious  scruples  about 
the  way  it  is  to  be  done?  Conscience!  Pshaw, 
what  nonsense!  As  if  an  Oglethorpe  evtUL 
had  a  conscience.  Convenient  that  they 
liaven't,  at  times.  To-night,  for  instance. 
Lucky  I  came  across  the  camp  of  that  fel- 
low accidentally  to-day.  Oglethorpe  was 
right;  no  man  could  ever  look  in  his  eyes 
without  remembering  them  till  death.  I 
hope  they  will  not  fasten  themselves  on  me 
this  evening,  for  they  would  haunt  me  for- 
ever. I  know  they  would.  I  wonder  what 
the  secret  is  between  that  unknown  and  the 
colonel  1    I'll  find  that  out  sometime.  ' 

Thus  the  paltroon  soliloquized,  picking  his 
way  around  iu  the  silence  of  thegreat  forest. 

There  is  something  about  the  solitude  of 
the  woods  which  arouses  within  a  man  a 
sense  of  his  positive  insignificance  as  a  part 
of  the  great  creation. 

If  he  be  a  criminal,  such  a  place  brings  up 
before  him  every  act  of  his  which  he  wishes" 
to  hide  from  his  fellow  men  and  to  push  out 
of  his  own  memory. 

Here  he  seems  nearer  to  his  Maker. 

All  these  things  came  again  and  again  into 
the  mind  of  Oglethorpe,  threading  the  de- 
vious paths  of  the  forest. 

No  wonder  he  wished  his  errand  done. 

In  an  hour  he  drew  his  horse  up  and  threw 
himself  from  his  saddle. 

The  narrow  track  he  had  been  pursuing 
lost  itself  in  a  dense  growth  of  shrubs  and 
low  bushes.  No  longer  could  he  have  even 
the  company  of  his  horse.  And  that  meant 
a  great  deal  to  Oglethorpe. 

He  dreaded  to  be  alone.    What  wonder  ? 

Fastening  his  horse  securely,  the  mau 
struck  a  match  and  carefully  looked  at  his 
pistols  and  drew  his  thumb  across  the  edge 
of  his  keen  hunting-knife. 

"This  is  the  weapon  of  my  choice,"  he 
whispered.  "  It  gives  out  no  sound,  and 
does  its  work  swiftly  and  well.  I  will  try  it 
first.  If  it  fails,  then  these  others  must  be 
used.  Fails?  The  word  must  not  be  spoken. 
I  fail  ?" 

With  a  sound,  partly  a  laugh,  partly  a 
sigh,  the  bird  of  the  night  thrust  his  weapons 
into  their  places,  and  parted  the  thicket  be- 
fore him. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


To  a  stranger  it  would  have  seemed  almost 
impossible  for  one  to  feel  his  way  tbrouch 
such  a  tangle  of  briars  and  uiidf  rbriish.  Yet 
Ofrli'tborpe,  as  if  born  nere,  pressed  forward 
makins  rapid  progress. 

So  nuiet  was  he  that  he  did  not  walceu  the 
birdd  from  their  slumber  iu  tlie  branches 
OTeriiead 

In  lialf  au  hour  he  stopped. 

The  smell  of  smoke  fell  upon  his  nostrils. 
»nJ  be  knew  he  was  neariug  the  spot  where 
his  vietim  lay  unsuspicious  of  his  approach. 

Double  caution  now  marked  his  move- 
ments. 

Almost  crouching  upon  the  ground  he 
•crawled,  rather  than  walked,  toward  the 
camp-fire. 

It   was  some    time   ere  its  glimmer  shone 


thr 


;h  tl 


"  I  liav.!  not  iiiis.-ieH  in  my  reckoning,"  the 
fleud  nuilli-]  rcl.     'No;  too  long  have  I  trod 

these  w U    r.ir   tlial.     Ha,  ha!  I  now    have 

au  oppni  tiiiiily  in  use  tue  knowledge  my 
past  tiaiiiinu  has  liniufiht  me.  I  wonder 
what  Molly  Gi-ame  would  s;iy  if  she  knew 
what  my  past  has  lieeii  ?  Or,  if  she  could  see 
me  now  crawling  through  thesis  forest  paths 
like  some  beast  of  prey.  Would  she  love 
me  better  ?  Love  me  better  1  Would 
she  not  the  rather  hate  me  with  dead- 
lier hatred  than  even  now?  And  yet  it  is 
for  her  I  am  here.  But  I  swear  here  in  this 
still  spot  that  when  this  war  is  over  and 
Molly  Grame  is  ray  wife,  I  will  forsake  the 
black  ways  I  have  trodden." 

The  words  were  those  of  a  man  who  means 
what  he  says. 

Then  on  he  crept  nearer  and  nearer  the  Are 
glowing  from  the  little  valley  below. 

Making  the  circuit  of  the  place  he  peered 
closely  about  for  the  exact  spot  where  the 
sleeper  lay. 

After  some  time  he  was  able  to  distinguish 
a  form  prostrate  iu  a  blanket  under  the 
shadow  of  alow-branched  cypress. 

Evidently  the  approach  of  Oglethorpe  was 
all  undreamed  of. 

Drawing  his  dagger  the  assassin  almost  ly- 
ing upon  the  ground  edged  hia  way  forward. 


That  night  Arthur  St.  Clair,  as  we  shall 
hereafter  know  the  stranger  whom  we  first 
met  at  the  window  of  Colonel  Fontneroy's 
quarters,  after  leaving  Phil  Lamonle  safely 
near  the  suburbs  of  Nashville,  plunged  back 
into  the  wood  toward  a  place  where  he  had 
often  rested  for  the  night. 

Reaching  that  spot,  he  cared  for  his  horse 
as  attentively  as  if  it  had  been  a  human  be- 
ing, then  set  about  preparing  for  himself  a 
plain  yet  substantial  meal  from  articles 
which  he  had  concealed  in  theseoluded  nook 
where  he  had  chosen  to  hide. 

He  was  a  strange  man. 

Yet  many  another  is  like  him. 

Proud,  well-born,  intellectual,  his  child- 
hood had  been  full  of  promise— promise 
which  seemed  but  the  bud  of  grand  achieve- 
ments for  the  future. 

Bat  evil  befell  him,  and  he  became  what 
we  uow  find  him— a  wanderer. 

Listen  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  story: 

•'  Why  am  I  not  a  man-hater?  Were  it  not 
that  at  first  my  heart  was  so  full  of  the  milk 
of  human  kindess  that  nothing  can  ever  root 
It  out,  to-day  I  would  have  naught  in  my 
heart  tor  my  fellow-men  but  bitterest  hate! 
As  it  is,  only  one  single  man  has  my  enmity, 
ind  that  man  is  he  who  brought  me  to  this 
low  estate,  robbing  me  of  all  that  life  held 
dear.  And  now  he  seeks  even  life  itself !  Not 
by  your  hand  or  that  of  your  paid  assassins 
shall  I  die.  Colonel  Pontneroy.  Fate  has 
something  better  in  store  for  me  than  that. 
I  am  in  disgrace  •  but  to  give  up  my  life 
through  such  means asyou can  invent  would 
be  terrible  indeed.  Well,  now  must  I  seek 
the  repose  1  need  for  the  work  of  the  mor- 
row. 1  must  keep  guard  over  Phil  Lamonte, 
for  the  sake   of    the   sweet  girl    who  loves 

Wrapping  his  blanket  about  him  he 
stretched  himself  out  by  the  cheerful  fire, 
and  was  soon  asleep. 

Over  his  silent  form  now  bent  the  mur- 
derer, Oglethorpe. 

In  his  hard  hand  he  held  his  dagger,  now 
uplifting  it,  and  again  letting  it  descend 
harmlessly  to  his  side. 

"  How  well  he  sleeps,"  the  villain  mutter- 
ed. "1  hate  this  deed.  It  is  murder.  Why 
did  Fontneroy  choose  me  for  its  perpetra- 
tion? If  it  must  be  done  why  could  he  not 
do  it  himself?  The  coward!  But  cow- 
ard as  he  is,  he  holds  me  in  his  power.  I 
must  obey  his  command!" 

Again  the  hand  was  uplifted. 

The  rays  of  light  as  they  fell  shimmering 
ttarough  the  leaves  betrayed  the  face  of  Ogle- 


thorpe, pale,  even  haggard,  as  he  stood  face 
to  face  with  tbis  the  greatest  crime  of  his 
life.  The  beating  of  his  own  heart  startled 
him. 

Suddenly  the  arm  of  the  murderer  was 
seized  from  behind,  and  his  weapon  sent 
hurtling  through  the  air. 

Witli  a  yell  of  rage  which  set  the  wild 
echoes  oC  the  iiiglit  to  ringing  far  and  near, 
Oglclhor  po  Imiiiiilpil  to  liis  f net  and  cast  one 
look  uiMiii  iho  l;i.  ,.  oi  llii-  being  who  had 
foil.-. I  i.i.il  in  his  .■.il  .i.-.^ii;n. 

All. I  llial  t;l;u..-.-  u;,^  .■ii..u-b. 

Slaii.luii.'  by  the  si.U- uf  the  form  of  Arthur 
St.  (Hair  with  her  locks  streaming  over  her 
shoul.leis,  was  Molly  Graine. 

The  eyes  of  the  fair  young  girl  penetrating 
in  to  the  very  soul  of  Oglethorpe,  seemed  like 
the  gaze  of  doom. 

A  groan  burst  from  his  lips. 

Then  he  turned  and  fled  from  the  scene. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ox    THE    VILLAIN'S    TRACK. 

The  despairing  cry  of  Oglethorpe  aroused 
the  sleeping  St.  Clair. 

Springing  to  his  feel  he  stared  in  wonder, 
first  upon  the  retreating  form  of  the  mid- 
night marauder,  then  down  into  the  color- 
less face  of  the  girl  beside  him. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this?"  he  at 
length  asked.  "  By  the  light  of  this  fire  I 
see  yon  man  disappearing  uow.  What 
brought  him  here?  And  you,  why  this  look 
on  your  features  ?" 

"  You  have  been  in  danger." 

"  In  danger !    From  what  source  ?" 

"  At  the  hands  of  the  man  you  saw  just 
now." 

"  That  danger  was  removed^y  you.  How 
can  I  thauk  you,  kind  lady?" 

The  strange  man  extended  his  hand. 

The  girl  placed  her  own  in  it. 

"  I  believe  I  did  frighten  him  awaj',"  she 
said.  "But no  thanks  are  necessary.  lam 
glad  you  escaped  unharmed.  That  fact  is 
enough  of  itself  to  repay  me." 

*'  I  am  happy  indeed  to  have  such  a  pre- 
server. Pardon  me,  but  1  must  know  your 
name.    Will  you  grant  me  this  request  ?" 

"  Molly  Grame." 

"Molly  Grame!"  exclaimed  St.  Clair,  in 
astonishment.  "  The  cousin  of  Laura  Doaue. 
Come  nearer  the  light.  Now  1  do  remember 
you.    We  have  met  once  before." 

"  Yes ;  and  the  orave  work  you  did  for 
Laura  and  I  has  not  yet  been  sufficiently  re- 
warded." 

"Then  it  never  will  be.  Is  not  such  a 
brave  deed  as  this  suiBcient  reward  ?  Speak 
no  further  of  that." 

The  girl  shuddered  as  the  thought  of  the 
result  had  she  not  appeared  to  stay  the  hand 
of  Oglethorpe  as  she  did. 

"You  spoke  just  now  of  danger  from  the 
man  who  has  just  left  us.    Who  was  he  ?" 

A  look  of  sadness  came  into  the  eyes  of  the 

"  Can  you  uot  think  ?  Have  you  no  enemy 
who  seeks  your  lite?" 

"  I  have.  But  I  wish  to  know  if  you  came 
near  enough  to  him  to  get  a  glimpse  of  his 
face.    Was  it  Fontneroy  himself  ?" 

"No.  Do  you  think  he  would  be  bold 
enough  to  venture  here  ?  Never.  Base  as 
he  is,  he  is  a  coward  still." 

"  I  see  you  know  him  well.  But,  who, 
then,  was  it?" 

"  You 

"Ah! 

dyed  villain !  you  are  the  man  chosen  for 
this  foul  crime,  are  you  ?  Once  more,  Font- 
neroy, you  show  your  cunning  in  choosing 
an  instrument  to  execute  your  will.  But 
you  have  failed!" 

Half  to  himself  were  the  last  words  spoken. 

"Now,  tell  me  how  you  came  out  here  in 
the  depths  of  this  forest." 

"  Sir,"  said  Molly  Grame,  proudly,  "  I  am 
not  ashamed  to  tell  you  this.  I  know  I  can 
trust  you.  I  have  a  lover,  Phil  Lamonte  is 
his  name.  He  has  been  hunted  by  this  same 
fiend  Oglethorpe.  This  you  know  but  too 
well.  The  peril  impending  over  him  impell- 
ed me  hither.  While  on  the  way  to  Nash- 
ville I  crossed  the  track  of  Oglethorpe  and 
knew  that  evil  was  iu  his  heart.  1  have 
shadowed  him  since  noon  to-day.  This  is 
the  second  time  I  hare  met  him,  though  he 
has  not  seen  me  till  this  hour,  and  twice  I 
have  thwarted  him  in  his  foul  schemes.  I 
tracked  him  to  ihis  place,  and  you  know  the 
result.  Now,  sir,  I  must  away  again.  This 
will  not  end  the  plots  of  Oglethorpe.  I  must 
find  Phil  Lamonte  and  warn  him  of  the 
danger  he  is  in.  He  is  now  in  Nashville  with 
General  Buell.    Thither  must  I  go." 

"Not  alone!" 

"Why  not?" 

R3C 
NcU 


13 

"Brave  girl!  I  cauuot  permit  it.  1  know 
what  lurks  between  this  nlaceand  yonder 
city.  I  beg  you  will  uot  refuse  my  offer  to 
attend  you." 

The  girl  hesitated. 

"  I  have  met  with  no  serious  difficulty  up 
to  the  present,  sir.    I  do  uot  anticipate  any." 

"  But  I  may  be  able  to  assist  you  in  ways 
you  know  uot  of  at  present.  Do  uot,  I  beg, 
refuse  this  request." 

"  You  are  kind.  1  will  not  deny  your  pe- 
tition." 

"Thanks.  We  will  follow  this  scoundrel. 
He  will  bring  us  to  the  man  you  love." 

"  I  believe  he  thinks  him  dead." 

"But  does  uot  know  it?  Then,  trust  me, 
he  will  pursue  him  till  he  learns  the  truth." 

"  I  fear  you  are  right,"  said  the  girl,  seri- 
ously. 

Leavin;;  M..lly  standing  by  the  fire,  St. 
Clair  liaatf I  I.,  hiiiif:  iiis  liorse  forward. 

"  Pl.'iiso  a.'.-.-pt  a  |ila.K  iqiou  my  hor.se," 
be  said.  "Y.^u  iiiiist  have  found  the  way 
troublesoim-  on.nijrl.  on  foot." 

"But  you  — I  .aot  allow  you  to  go  on  foot 
to  save  mo  fr.iiii  li.)ul.le.    I  am  strong." 

"So  am  I.  ISy  f-'lviijg  me  my  own  way  iu 
this  matter  you  will  please  me  much.  I  am 
an  obstinate  fellow." 

The  girl  yielded,  and  was  soon  seatetl  upon 
St.  Clair's  horse. 

"Now,  I  know  the  bridle-path  down  the 
mountain  better  than  you  do,  so  I  will  walk 
on  ahead.  Follow  me  closely.  Are  you 
ready?" 

"  If  you  are." 

"Then  forward." 

Back  over  the  trail  along  which  Oglethorpe 
had  crept  on  his  way  to  commit  the  deed  he 
had  so  basely  planned,  the  two  hastened. 

The  guide,  relying  upon  his  horse  to  fol- 
low him  and  upon  the  girl  to  keep  her  seat, 
struck  into  a  pace  half  a  walk  aud  half  a 
run,  slackening  his  speed  only  when  they 
approached  the  place  where  Oglethorpe's 
band  was  encamped. 

St.  Clair  had  judged  rightly  when  he  said 
that  Oglethorpe  would  now  hunt  Phil  La- 
monte till  he  knew  what  hadbecomeof  him. 
Terrified  by  the  appearanoeot  Molly  'Jiaiiie, 
who  seemed  to  him  like  a  very  Neiii.-is.  lie 
became  for  the  time  almost  beside  himself 
with  desperation. 

Hovering  near  the  camp,  it  was  but  a  short 
time  before  St.  Clair  aud  Molly  heard  a 
voice  they  distinguished  but  too  readily, 
saying: 

"  Up,  boys,  aud  away !  Back  to  Nashville. 
There's  work  for  us  yonder.  I  am  uneasy 
to-night.  1  cannot  get  that  cursed  Lamonte 
out  of  my  head.  I  fear  he  has  escaped  us 
even  uow.  We  must  know  his  fate,  if  burned 
in  that  old  tenement,  or  still  abroad  to  cause 
us  trouble.  Quick,  now ;  not  a  moment 
must  be  lost." 

Speedily  lights  twinkled  here  and  there 
among  the  trees,  and  men  flitting  to  and  fro 
could  be  seen  from  the  hiding-place  of  the 
couple. 

"  Dare  you  remain  here  for  a  minute 
alone?"  asked  St.  Clair,  in  a  whisper. 

"I  dare." 

Like  a  flash  he  was  away. 

What  was  his  intention  ?  The  girl  could 
not  imagine. 

Five  minutes  shpped  away.  Still  the  guide 
did  uot  return.  The  heart  of  Molly  Grame 
began  to  tremble  for  him. 

Had  he  been  discovered? 

Suddenly  a  yell  woke  the  stillness. 

What  did  it  mean? 

The  ne.\t  instant  a  horseman  came  tearing 
through  the  bushes. 

"This  way,  Molly!  Lose  no  time,  fur  the 
hounds  will  be  after  us  in  a  second.  I  want- 
ed a  horse.  I've  got  it,  but  I  had  to  fight 
for  it,  and  was  discovered." 

Discovered ! 

The  word  sent  a  chill  through  Molly,  brave 
as  he  was.  , 

But  without  a  sign  to  betray  this  emotion, 
she  urged  her  horse  iu  close  pursuit  of  that 
of  St.  Clair. 

Not  a  dozen  yards  had  they  advanced 
when  a  volley  of  bullets  sang  about  them. 

The  sensation  was  not  pleasant. 

For  the  time  being  they  were  the  pursued 
instead  of  the  pursuers. 

St.  Clair  hoped  by  a  few  sharp  moves  to 
throw  them  off  their  guard  and  compel  them 
to  abandon  the  chase. 

Turning  his  course  toward  the  highway, 
side  by  side  with  Molly,  he  shot  through  the 
murky  night  till  the  stream  had  been  reached 
which  ran  through  deep  defiles  and  darkly 
shaded  valleys. 

The  discovery  that  the  bridge  was  gone 
threw  St.  Clair  off  his  guard  for  a  moment. 

"This  is  bad,"  he  said.  "Once  on  the 
other  side  of  the  stream,  I  believe  we  could 


14 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Uave  evaded  our  pursuers.  But  this  will 
not  do.  Already  iu  the  distance  I  hear  the 
sound  of  horses'  feet.  It  is  a  bold  plan.  I 
would  not  dare  to  undertake  it  did  I  not  see 
you  are  a  fearless  rider.    Come." 

Plunging  into  the  furious  current  the 
younjr  man  rode  down  the  stream. 

Witb  characteristio  bravery  the  girl  imi- 
tated his  example. 

Several  times  the  water  almost  swept  their 
horses  out  from  under  them 

Struggliug  desperately,  the  animals  re- 
gained then-  equilibrium  and  obeved  the 
whip  and  spur  of  their  riders. 

Iu  this  way  the  two  descended  the  stream 
till  they  reached  a  point  where  positive  dan- 
ger attended  further  advance. 

Perceiving  this,  St.  Clair  drew  his  horse-  to- 
ward the  banlf,  and  soon  they  stood  once 
more  upon  solid  ground,  their  animals  pant- 
ing heavily. 

"It  was  a  hard  thing  to  do;  but  I  believe 
by  it  we  have  succeeded  iu  throwing  Ogle- 
thorpe oft  our  track.  When  1  am  sure  of 
that,  we  will  again  become  the  pursuers. 
How  b;ive  you  stood  the  ride?" 

"Fear  mlt  for  me.  lam  at  home  m  the 
saddle.  D.iilv  I  scour  the  country  upon 
horseback.  That  is,  I  used  to  until  our 
neighborhood  became  infested  with  the  law 
less  bauds  which  the  Confederate  army 
brought." 

"  I  take  it  you  are  not  in   sympathy  with 
the  Confederates  f" 
"  And  you  are  right." 

"  But  your  cousin— is  not  the  case  diflferent 
with  her?" 
"It  was,  I  regret  to  say.   As  to  the  present, 

I  think  it  safe " 

"Sh!"  whispered  St.  Clair.  "Unless  I 
mistake,  even  here  we  are  not  safe.  Canit  be 
our  ruse  has  not  been  successful  ?" 

Bending  down  from  his  saddle,  the  youug 
man  listened  intently. 

"  It  is  as  1  feared.  "The  Bends  are  searching 
the  sliore  fo-  us." 

"Let  them  come!"  said  Molly,  pluckily. 
"We  may  as  well  meet  them  here  as  any- 
where." 

"It  looks  to  me  as  if  there  is  not  much 
choice  left  us  in  the  matter.  It  would  be 
madness  to  attempt  to  venture  again  into 
that  vortex  of  water.  Just  here  the  current 
strikes  against  this  rocky  cape,  and  we 
should  be  dashed  down  to  death. 
The  position  was  indeed  critical. 
On  all  sides  but  one  they  were  shut  in  by  a 
wall  of  solid  rook  rising  high  above  their 
heads. 

In  the  one  direction  mentioned,  a  narrow 
path  run  along  the  stream  where  a  man 
might,  with  great  caution,  pick  his  way  on 
hoi-se. 

"  For  myself  I  would  not  care,"  St.  Clair 
whispered.  "  In  this  place  I  could  defy  half 
of  Beauregard's  army.  I  hoped  to  spare  you 
the  danger.  ' 


eral   men,  this  time  I  the  gr  ve 
door. 
"  Wait  till  they  are  fairly  in  sight,"  was 
Clair's  wliispered  instructions. 
mL  . »  instant  he  said  : 


"Nov 

Again  the  two  reports  woke  the  still 
night. 

Aud  once  more  the  cries  which  followed 
showed  that  the  shots  were  not  in  vain. 

imprecations  deep  and  loud  came  to  the 
ears  of  St.  Clair,  followed  by  prolonged  si- 
lence. 

An  hour  passed  by,  and  all  this  time  Phil 
Lainonte  was  drawing  nearer  the  roaring 
,. Qj,  j[jp  other  shore. 


they  are  lying  in  wait  for  us  just  beyon  _  _ 
defile.     I  will  learn  which  is  true." 

Carefully  as  a  son  of  the  forest  he  stole 
along  in  the  shadow  of  the  rocks  until  he 
could  look  through  the  opening. 

Outside  naught  was  to  be  heard  for  some 
time,  then,  suddenlv,  the  young  man  caught 
the  click  of  muffled  oars  some  distance  up 
the  stream. 

What  new  i)roject  had  the  Confederates 
on  foot? 

The  moon,  which  had  been  sailing  under 
clouds,  at  that  moment  broke  from  its  cov- 
ering, and  by  its  dim  rays  St.  Clair  saw  about 
to  push  out  from  the  shore,  a  boat,  iu  which 
sat  three  men. 

Between  them  lay  the  form  of  a  man. 

What  could  it  mean  ? 

He  must  know.  Some  evil  scheme,  no 
be  carried  into   execu- 


was  about 


think 
,  .  .  as  an 

ally.    I  will  do  my  best,  and  I   can  handle  a 
weapon  with  some  skill." 

"  You  are  brave  as  bravery  itself!"  said  St. 
Clair,  approvingly.  "  You  will  havea  chance 
to  test  your  skill,  I  imagine.  Y^ou  are  arm?d 
and  ready." 

The  words  had  hardly  left  the  lips  of  St. 
Clair  when  the  Confederates  appeared 
stealthily  groping  along  the  bank  of  the 
stream. 

When  there  stood  two  men  inside  thenat- 
tiral  fortress.  St.  Clair  said  : 

"  Take  the  first  man." 

Two  shots  rung  out. 

Two  howls  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  ap- 
proaching horseman. 

"Bravo,  Molly!  The  day  is  ours!"  ex- 
claimed St.  Clair.  "  They  will  not  face  such 
music  as  that  long." 

Silence  prevailed  for  some  time. 

St.  Clair  and  his  courageous  companion 
watched  the  narrow  defile  keenly,  momen- 
tarily expecting  further  signs  of  an  attack. 

Soon  it  came,  but  in  a  manner  which  thev 
scarcely  thought  possible. 

From  the  bank  high  above  their  heads 
came  half  a  score  of  death  messengers,whicli 
spattered  on  the  water  of  the  stream  at  their 
feet. 

St  Clair  grasped  the  arm  of  Molly,  and 
drew  her  back  under  the  rocky  ledge  which 
projected  far  enough  to  afford  a  secure  roof. 
From  that  direction  there  was  evidently 
nothing  further  to  fear.  But  the  Confeder- 
ates had  not  abandoned  tlieii-  iiri^riiuil  ]ilaii 
of  dislodging  our  friend^,  ;iiid  iluy  liad  uo 
more  than  readied   tlieir  sliflier   liniler  (he 


phioh  half  hid 


iin.uMd    the 
thf  I  h  ects 


dou 
tiou. 

How  could  he  reach  the  singular  trio  and 
their  burden  ? 

If  he  had  a  boat  ! 

Might  there  not  be  other  boats  concealed 
near  tlieie ? 

This  one  must  have  lain  not  far  distant. 

He  begjin  a  thorough  seai;h  along  the 
bank. 

Success  crowned  his  efforts;  forbidden 
under  a.  thicket  of  elders  was  a  boat  large 
enough  to  cany  two  persons. 

Evidently  this  place  had  been  the  point 
where  some  one  crossed  and  le-crossed  the 
stream  since  the  bridge  had  been  washed 
away 


walk,    and    dismounted    at    the 


"  Tell  Colonel  Fontneroy  I  cannot  see  him 
to-day,"  the  girl  said,  wheu  a  servant  ap- 
peared in  answer  to  her  summons.  "  I  am 
unwell." 

The  servant  turned  away. 

"  Esther,  come  back,"  continued  the  proud 
girl,  her  cheeks  glowing  witn  unwonted 
brilliancy.  "  Perhaps  you  had  better  show 
the  colonel  up  to  the  parlor,  iiud  I  will  eome 
down.  He  may  have  something  important 
to  tell  me." 

"  'Deed,  missus,  I  link  you'd  better  kep'  to 
your  fust  'pinion,"  said  the  sable  ineaseuger. 

"Don't  keep  him  waiting,  Esther,"  was 
the  response,  as  the  servant  taiTie<l  to  see 
whether  her  argument  would  not  induc« 
her  mistress  to  return  to  her  foi  mer  de- 
cision. 

"This  interview  shall  be  our  last,"  Laura 
said,  in  a  low  tone,  preparing  to  descend  to 
the  parlor,  "aud  I  will  make  the  most  of  it. 
I  have  been  a  friend  to  the  Confederacy. 
Now  1  will  be  its  bitterest  foe!  Look  well 
to  yourself.  Colonel  Fontneroy,  lest  you  li«- 
tray  too  much  this  morning." 

Tripping  down  the  stairs,  shemet  the  colo- 
nel with  outstretched  hand  and  a  smile. 

The  Confederate  officer's  eyes  rested  upon 
her  with  a  piercing  gaze.  He  wasstriviugto 
read  her  heart.  Did  she  know— had  she  seen 
St.  Clair? 


If  she 
manner 
aud  the 
her  plea 


been  p 

"TIh 

have  II 


where  he  had  ieft  Molly 

"  Fasten  the  horses  securely  and  come 
here,  quickly,"  he  said,  bringing  the  boat  to 
the  shore.  "Some  base  plot  is  afloat  among 
our  pursuers.  They  have  yonder  in  a  boat 
the  body  of  some  one.  Who  it  is  we  must 
know." 

Uuquestiouingly  the  girl  obeyed,  and  in  an 
incredibly  short  space  of  time  joined  St. 
Clair  in  the  boat. 

Though  the  current  was  running  at  a 
dreadful  rate  around  the  rock  just  below, 
the  strange  man  handled  the  oars  as  if  they 
had  been  feathers,  and  the  boat  shot  through 
the  madly  dashing  waves  like  an  arrow 
from  a  bow. 

Taking  care  to  keep  on  the  windward  side, 
he  approached  the  boat  containing  the  three 
so  quietly  that  he  could  see  the  face  of  the 
prostrate  man  they  bore. 

Drawing  in  his  oars,  he  whispered  : 

"  Ouce  more,  Molly,  you  must  try  your 
hand.  Those  fiends  are  about  to  commit 
murder.    We  must  prevent  it.    Fire!" 

Molly,  true  blue,  and  steady  of  hand,  sent 
her  bullet  straight  through  one  of  the  men 
who  held  aloft  the  body  of  their  prisoner 
poised  in  mid-air  for  the  fatal  plunge ! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

TIGHTENING  THE   WEB. 

Laura  Uoane  sat  in  her  room  at  the  splen- 
did Southern  mansion. 

Her  mind,  as  indexed  by  hei  face,  was  not 
onpleasant  things. 

Her  dark  eyes  flashed  dangerously,  and 
she  tapped  the  toe  of  her  dainty  boot  impa- 
tiently against  an  ottoman  as  she  leaned 
easily  back  in  her  chair. 

"The  villain,"  she  suiii.  l)ftwpeu  he  shut 
teeth.  "  Did  he  think  hi-  cimld  play  with 
me  as  with  some  toy,  and  then  cast  me  aside 
for  a  new  object  of  fancy:'  If  he  did  he 
made  a  mistake.  He  shall  learn  that  Laura 
Doane  can  hate  as  well  as  love,  and  that  it  is 
not  so  far  from  the  one  passion  to  the  other 
that  base  villainy  as  he  is  guilty  of  cannot 
span  the  breach.  Ha!  even  as  I  speak  of 
,  he  comes !  It  may  as  well  come  now  as 
'.  But,  stay;  why  this  strange  feeling  at 
my  heart?    I  will  wait— will  tell  him  I  can- 

Dt  see  him  to-aay." 

She  touched  the  bell-pull  as  a  man  rode  up 


had,  nothing   in    her  features   or 
udicated  it.    The  luster  in  her  eyes 


1  nut  I  would  not  be  here." 

on  sure  you  are  strong  enough  to 

1  y     It  scHina  to  me  you  should  have 

lent  a  day  in-  two  longer." 

ause  I  lun  I-  espoused   needs   me.     I 

iijif   t..   ii-t      Then,   too,  it  would 

p   soniftliiiif;-    more  thau  a  scratch 

to  keep  lue  longer  from  you." 

vas  a  meaniug  in   the  tone  which 

ire  than  Fontneroy "s  words,  and  the 


an  expression  at  that 
moment  which  puzzled  htr  visitor.  It  was 
hardly  of  disbelief,  hardly  of  scorn. 

But  she  remained  silent,  and  her  suitor 
continued : 

"  I  ralher  expected  you  would  come  to  see 
me,  at  least  once  while  I  was  shut  up  with 
this  wound.     I  thought  I  had  a  right " 

"Aright?" 

"  Pardon  me,  Laura.  But  had  I  not  such  a 
right?  Surely  the  past  seemed  to  warrant 
it.  " 

Again  that  peculiar  look;  but  Laura  re- 
mained silent. 

"  If  my  manner  has  not  been  sufficiently 
expressive  to  indicate  my  feelings  toward 
you,  Laura,  let  me  now  speak  without  re- 
serve. Need  I  say  that  my  heart  is  wholly 
yours,  that  I  love  you  madly'?" 

The  girl  sprung  up  and  walked  away  to 
the  opposite  side  ot  the  room,  where  she 
stood  with  her  eyes  resting  upon  vacancy, 
though  she  appeared  to  be  looking  from  the 
window. 

The  words  of  this  man  had  power  to  send 
a  thrill  over  her  even  yet. 

Could  it  be  true?  Was  this  the  man  St. 
Clair  had  warned  her  against  ? 

Conquering  herself,  she  came  back. 

"Colonel  Fontneroy,  this  is  not  the  time 
for  such  talk  as  this.  Tou  must  see  that 
while  yet  the  horrors  of  war  surround  me  it 
is  useless  to  speak  of  the  future." 

There  was  a  gesture  of  impatience  from 
Fontneroy. 

"This  matter  will  all  be  over  in  a  few 
months.  We  have  now  a  project  on  foot 
which  will  practically  put  an  end  to  the 
war.  Tour  argument  is  without  founda- 
tion, in  fact.  I  must  press  you  for  an  an- 
swer. Is  it  yes  or  no,  Laura?  Dearest,  it 
cannot  be  no.     Let  me  hope  so,  at  least !" 

The  girl  was  quivering  with'emotion.  She 
had  loved  Fontneroy  with  her  whole  being. 
It  cost  her  more  than  she  had  dreamed  pos- 
sible to  resist  his  advances. 

Shaking  off  the  spell  which  she  felt  creep- 
ing over  her,  she  said,  while  she  permitted 
the  Confederate  colonel  to  take  her  band : 

"Y'"oumaybe  mistaken  in  assuming  that 
the  war  is  so  nearly  over.  When  the  plan 
you  have  on  foot  has  been  tried,  and  it  is 
known  what  its  result  is,  then  it  will  be  time 
to  predict  its  effect.  But,  colonel,  what  is 
the  project  you  speak  of?" 

The  colonel  tried  to  pierce  the  depths  ot 
the  beautiful  eyes.  What  was  the  girl's  mo- 
tive iu  asking  that  question?  Simple  curi- 
osity ? 

"Laura,  this  is  a  matter  which  has  been 
breathed  aloud  only  in  the  councils  of  our 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


15 


officers.  Our  plaus  are  being  perfected  m 
utter  secrecy.    Can  1  trust  you?" 

"  Trust  me  !  Have  you  ever  had  a  reason 
to  doubt  my  fidelity  to  the  cause?" 

"  No;  but  this  is  such  an  important  thing. 
I  am  placing  my  honor  at  stake.  You  could 
briug  upon  me  eternal  disgrace." 

"  If  you  cannot  trust  the  woman  you  say 
you  love  now,  how  would  it  be  by  and  by  ?" 

The  colonel   averted    his  eyes.    He  could 


nearly  maiureu,  oi  ciuamug  lue  uuiuu  arujy 
under  General  Grant,  near  Pittsburg  Land- 


ing, entering^  into  the  details  fully,  and  for- 

tettingm   hir       -^     ■ "---  ■  -   ■-- '  ■ 

rayed  the  se( 
The  expedition  had  been  partly  planned 


1  the  secret  of  the  campaign. 


by  him,  and    naturally  he  took  prid 
hearsing  its  features  and   telling  what  its  re- 
sult would  be. 

Laura  drunk  in  the  colonel's  words  with  a 
strange  determination  growing  stronger  and 
stronger  within  her. 

When  he  had  completed  the  history  of  the 
surprise  intended  for  the  Union  troops, 
Laura  said  : 

"  A  bold  enterprise,  indeed.  But  what  if 
news  of  it  should  reach  the  ears  of  General 
Grant  before  you  have  time  to  execute  it?" 

There  was  something  in  the  question  which 
sent  terror  into  the  breast  of  Colonel  Font- 
neroy. 

"  Such  an  event  is  not  to  be  thought  of. 
Every  step  has  been  guarded.  Ouly  by  the 
hand  of  a  traitor  could  our  project  be 
brought  to  failure.  It  would  be  death  to 
that  traitor,  for  he  would  be  hunted  down 
like  a  dog.  Why  do  you  ask  such  a  thing  as 
that?" 

The  girl  rose  and  stood  proudly  before  the 
colonel,  whose  face  was  pale  and  anxious. 

'■  Colonel  Fontneroy,  you  speak  of  a  be- 
trayal, and  say  it  would  prove  disastrous  to 
your  cause.  What  would  you  think  of  a 
man  who  betrayed  the  heart  of  a  confiding 
woman?" 

There  was  no  doubting  Laura's  intention 
now. 

When  it  wa.s  too  late,  Colonel  Fontneroy 
saw  it. 

"  Laura,  good  Heaven  1  what  do  you  mean? 
Why  do  you  look  at  me  thus?  It  cannot  be 
you  intend  to  betray  me  now?" 

"  You  ask  if  I  intend  to  betray  you  !  You, 
whose  every  word  is  spoken  to  deceive !  For, 
know  that  I  have  learned  your  villainy.  I 
have  seen  Arthur  St.  Clair." 

The  colonel  staggered  to  his  feet,  his  eyes 
bloodshot  and  wild. 

"Woman,  beware  what  you  say!"  he 
hissed.  "You  make  me  almost  beside  my- 
self. What  have  I  to  do  with  St.  Clair?  He 
is  my  enemy.  His  hand  sent  the  bullet 
which  oame  near  taking  my  life.  He  hates 
me.  Ho  has  lied  to  you,  and  you  have  be- 
lieved him." 

"  Why  should  I  uot  'I  It  you  can  stand  here 
tjefore  me  and  tell  me  truly  that  you  have 
not  ruined  his  lite  I  will  believe  you  still. 
Heaven  kuows  I  have  tried  to  think  he  was 
dealing  unjustly  with  you.    Can  you  say  it  ? 


what  his  lips  eould  not— that  it  was  true- 
that  he  could  not  deny  the  girl's  accusation. 

"  I  tell  you,"  he  stammered,  weakly,  "he 
is  my  enemy.  Why  should  you  believe  him? 
instead  of  me!  Laura,  come  here  and  tell 
me  you  are  not  in  earnest." 

"  But  I  am  in  earnest  1"  cried  Laura.  "You 
did  what  St.  Clair  charges.  I  believe  it,  and 
I  shall  hate  you  forever  for  It.  Love  gives 
place  in  my  heart  to  hate.  I  will  never  for- 
get the  villainy  you  played  toward  him  and 
the  lies  you  told  to  me." 

"  Beware— beware!  1  tell  you,  how  you 
trifle  with  me,"  said  Fontneroy,  between  his 
shut  teeth.  "  I  will  not  answer  for  myself  if 
you  do  not  cease." 

The  Confederate  attempted  to  control  him- 
self, but  was  failing  fast. 

Laura  stepped  toward  the  door  leading  out 
of  the  room. 

"I  fear  not  your  scorn  I"  she  exclaimed. 
"  You  cannot  harm  me.  I  bid  you  good- 
morning." 

Fontneroy  sprung  between  her  and  the 
doorway,  attempting  to  check  her  In  her  es- 
cape, but  she  glided  swiftly  by  him,  and  his 
hand  clutched  empty  air. 

"  Laura  Doane,"  he  cried,  furiously,  "stop 
where  you  are,  I  command  y 

As  bespoke  the  glitter  of 
have  been  seen  beneath  his  hand. 

It  was  now  diamond  cut  diamond  between 
Laura  and  Colonel  Fontneroy. 

The  girl  did  not  see  this  act  of  the  oflicer's, 
for  she  was  already  out  of  sight,  leaving  the 


colonel  alone  in  the  hall  muttering  to  him- 
selt. 

A  few  minutes  later,  white  with  passion, 
Fontneroy  rode  back  to  Corinth. 

Hardly  had  he  disappeared  when  a  cloaked 
figure  emerged  from  the  Doane  mansion, 
unattended,  and  took  the  road  leading  to- 
ward Pittsburg  Landing. 

From  beneath  the  ample  folds  of  the  hood 
there  peered  the  black  eyes  of  the  beautiful 
Laura  Doane. 


The  web  which  the  Confederates  under  the 
leadership  of  General  Beauregard  were 
weaving  was  now  being  drawn  tighter  and 
tighter  around  the  unsuspicious  Unionists 
encamped  between  Pittsburg  Landing,  on 
the  left  bank  of  the  Tennessee  River,  and  the 
Shiloh  Meeting  House,  in  the  forest  about 
two  miles  from  the  same  stream. 

Beauregard,  who  had  been  lying  at  Cor- 
inth, had  been  joined  by  General  Johnston 
and  his  troops  after  they  had  fled  from  Nash- 
ville. 

He  also  had  for  his  assistants  Generals 
Polk,  Bragg,  Hardee  and  Breckenridge. 

Seeing  that  Grant's  great  hope  was  to 
reach  and  occupy  Corinth,  and  that  until  the 
arrival  of  General  Buell  he  would  scarcely 
attempt  an  attack,  the  Confederate  general 
determined  to  become  for  the  once  aggres- 
sive, and  strike  his  opponent  unawares  a 
blow,  which  would  not  only  send  him  back- 
ward in  defeat  but  revive  the  drooping  spir- 
its of  the  entire  South. 

Colonel  Fontneroy,  foreseeing  that  unless 
immediate  action  were  taken,  all  would  be 
lost  through  his  own  folly  in  revealing  their 
plans  to  Laura  Doane,  now  urged  an  advance 
without  delay,  giving  as  his  reason  the  belief 
that  Buell  would  come  up  quicker  than  they 
supposed,  and  defeat  all. 

Convinced  by  this  argument.  General 
Beauregard  determined  upon  carrying  into 
execution  at  once  the  famous  coupd'  ctat, 
which  came  so  near  to  proving  the  greatest 
success  of  the  Confederacy. 

Through  the  eternal  drizzle  of  that  gloomy 
day  in  spring  the  Confederates  marched  in 
separate  columns,  under  their  respective 
leaders,  out  of  Corinth,  and  concentrated 
near  Pittsburg  Landing. 

So  stealthy  was  their  movement  that  they 
reached  a  point  only  four  miles  distant  from 
the  Union  forces  before  they  were  discovered. 

On  April  5, 180'2,  they  hailed  to  await  the 
arrival  of  Price  and  van  Dorn  from  Central 
Arkansas. 

The  force  under  Beauregard  had  been 
swollen  from  eleven  thousand  to  forty 
thousand. 

Fontneroy,  whose  i-eputation  was  now  at 
stake,  tried  to  convince  General  Beauregard 
that  nothing  would  be  gained  by  waiting  for 
further  reinforcement. 

Prompt  and  decisive  action  was  his  con- 
tiimed  appeal. 

But  Beauregard  waited. 

And  thus  the  two  mighty  armies  lay  like 
panting  tigers,  ready  for  the  plunge  which 
was  to  send  many  a  poor  soldier,  blue  and 
gray,  to  the  bloody  grave. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A     FEARFUL      LEAP 

Phil  Lamonte  struggled    up  in  the  boat 
bound thougl    "  *    '    ' 


wair  and   leaned  eagerly 
forward  in  the  attempt  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  persons  who    had    so  unexpectedly  be- 
friended him. 
"  Who  are  you  ?"  he  asked,  quickly. 
"Friends!"  was  the  reply. 
'  No  need  to  tell  me  that,"  responded  our 


lero.    "I  know  it  already." 
"  Is  not  that  sufficient  ?"  asked  i 


"  For  some  it  might.  Not  for  me.  I  must 
know  whom  to  thank." 

"Then  thank  pretty  Molly  Grame  here. 
To  her  more  than  any  one  else  you  owe  your 
escape.    I  am  in  her  debt  also." 

Phil  bent  down,  and  by  the  pale  light  of 
the  moonbeams  struggling  through  the 
clouds  looked  into  Molly's  face. 

How  his  heart  leaped ! 

Molly,  his  perserver ! 

It  must  be  true,  then,  that  she  did  care 
for  him,  if  she  were  willing  to  risk  so  much 
for  his  sake. 

"  Molly  Grame  !  Well,  this  is  indeed  a 
happy  surprise  to  me.  How  can  I  express 
my  gratitude?  Yet  you,  sir,  must  have  had 
no  small  part  m  bringing  this  meeting 
about." 

And  he  turned  to  St.  Clair. 

"You  are  right,"  said  Molly,  "for  more 
has  depended  on  him  than  on  me.  Only  he 
is  too  modest  to  admit  it,  that  is  all." 


'Nay,  Miss  Grame,  I  cannot  let  you  apeak 
js.    However,  it  is  enough   that  wonaTO 


hat  more  fully  than  I," 
"  Tu  a  moment  more  I 
idcr  the   waves.     I  hope 


sometime,  it  not  now.  If  1  u 
recogiiiz"  in  you  the  man  wIk 
proved  such  a  true  friend  to  in 
am  I  not?" 
"  We  have  met  before." 
"  I  hope  you  will  not  deny 
pleasure  of  knowing  you 


I  not,  I 
alraady 


now  th« 
It  woald 
Id  other- 
totbank 


of  half  the  happiucss 
wise  feel  not  to  know  whom 
for  this  rescue." 

"  I  am  Arthur  St.  Clair." 

He  spoke  so  sad  ly  t  hat  neither  Phil  nor  hU 
companion  questioned  further. 

"Arthur  St.  Clair!"  he  contiuaed,  re- 
flectively. "The  name  sounds  almoct  as 
strange  to  me  as  if  I  never  had  heard  it.    It 


tear-drop  glistening  in  her   eye. 

not  your  past,  but  I  i 

the  future  you  shall  not  be  a  wanderer  if  we 


past,  but  I  can  assuie  you  that  in 


can  help  it.  Do  I  not  speak  for  you  as  well 
as  myself,  Mr.  Lamonte?" 

She  turned  to  the  young  man  beside  whom 
she  stood. 

"  You  do,  I  assure  you,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  thank  yon  more  deeply  than  I  can  tell, 
for  I  believe  yiiu  mean  what  you  say.  For- 
get what  I  said  just  now.  Only  a  mo- 
mentary weakness  forced  it  from  me.  We 
now  have  too  much  before  us  to  allow  ns  to 
waste  time  uselessly.  Every  moment  is 
fraught  with  danger.  We  may  expect  to 
hear  from  our  friends  on  shore  very  soon." 

"True,  "  said  Phil,  starting  suddenly,  as  he 
thought  of  the  work  which  la^  before  him, 
and  felt  thankf u  1  Oglethorpe  had  not  thought 
to  have  him  searched.  "  I  especially  have 
need  to  be  away  instantly." 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  our  prisoner?" 
asked  Molly,  pointing  to  the  form  of  the  Cou- 
federate  who  had  formed  one  of  the  trio 
which  had  brought  Lamonte  out  into  the 
stream,  but  which  at  this  moment  lay  trem- 
bling in  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

"  He  shall  meet  the  fate  he  attempted  to 
force  upon  our  friend,  Mr.  Lamonte,"  said 
SI.  Clair,  sternly. 

"That  is " 

"  A  cold  bath  in  the  water." 

Molly  shuddered  at  the  words.  She  was 
unuse<l  111  such  scenes  as  this  sentence 
brought  lo  mind. 

"It  seems  -evHie,"  she  half  pleaded. 

"The  till. Is  are  simply  turned,  that's  all." 

"But  he  v\as  acting  under  orders.  That 
makes  his  crime  less  grave." 

"  You  pkacl  well  for  such  a  knave,"  said 
Phil.  "Seeing  I  am  the  party  lately  about 
to  have  been  the  victim  of  this  rascal,  let  me 
add  a  mitigating  clause  to  his  sentence.  His 
hands  Bhall  not  be  bound    as    they  bound 

"  I  accept,"  responded  St.  Clair. 

1  he  Confederate,  who  had  up  to  the  pres- 
ent kept  silent,  now  began  to  beg  piteonsly. 
But  his  plea  was  unavailing. 

In  another  instant  he  was  floundering  in 
the  dark  water,  while  St.  Clair,  seizing  the 
oars,  sent  the  boat  flying  toward  the  point 
where  the  horses  were  secured. 

With  difficulty  he  brought  the  craft  to  the 
shore,  as  the  cuirent  dashed  heavily  around 
the  rock  near  by,  forming  a  truly  dangerous 
landing. 

When  he  did  succeed  in  reaching  shore,  he 
leaped  out,  and  after  seeing  Phil  and  Molly 
safe  on  land  he  ran  to  the  secluded  place 
where  the  horses  had  been  left. 

They  were  gone! 

"  Fiends!"  he  muttered,  "they  now  have 
us  at  an  awkward  disadvantage,  indeed." 

Hastening  back  to  Phil,  he  said  : 

"  We  have,  indeed,  trouble  ahead.  Our 
horses,  which  we  left,  as  we  thought,  in  per^ 
feet  security,  have  been  taken.  We  most 
continue  our  flight  on  foot." 

This  was  truly  a  sorry  plight.  What  oould 
be  done? 

There  were  the  boats.  But  of  what  service 
could  they  be  ? 

Phil  especially  had  no  use  for  such  a 
course.  His  route  lay  toward  Pittsburg 
Landing. 

Molly,  brave  little  body  though  she  wsis, 
felt  for  the  moment  very  discouraged. 

The  prospect  was  far  from  encouraging,  in 


Lible  i 


smeut  a 


16 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


yell  broke  upon  their  ears,  coming  from  the 
bluff  overhead. 

Had  a  secret  way  been  discovered  by 
which  the  Confederates  hoped  to  reach  the 
natural  fortress  in  which  Phil  and  his  com- 
panions now  were? 

No. 

Yet  why  that  cry  ot  triumph  ? 

Before  either  of  the  two  men  could  deter- 
mine this  question,  halt  a  dozen  men  leaped 
from  the  darkness,  not  four  yards  from  the 
spot  where  our  friends  stood. 

How  had  they  reached  the  ground  ? 

A  rope  dangling  from  the  top  of  the  Ijluff 
solved  the  jiroblem. 

By  means  of  that  rope  the  Confederates 
had  slid,  hand  over  hand,  down  the  sides  of 
the  perpendicular  wall  of  rock,  and  now 
stood  almost  face  to  face  with  the  objects  of 
their  pursuit. 

It  was  a  moment  of  thrilling  peril. 

"  Follow  me!"  whispered  Phil,  as  he  leaned 
down  and  clasped  the  form  of  Molly  Grame 
in  his  arms.  "  We  will  give  these  rascals  a 
chance  to  chase  us.  If  they  overtake  us, 
then  let  them  look  out  for  themselves." 

To  the  athletic  young  man  the  burden  he 
bore  formed  little  obstacle  to  his  flight. 

Bushing  along  the  narrow  pathway 
through  which  St.  Clair  aud  Molly  had  en- 
tered, and  closely  pursued  by  St.  Clair,  he 
turned  al)ruptly  and  hastened  up  the  steep 
bank  toward  the  forest  lying  along  shore. 

So  rapid  had  been  his  action  that  as  yet 
the  Confederates  had  not  yet  made  their  ap- 
pearance in  the  rear.  Either  they  had  not 
noticed  the  escape,  or  they  were  waiting  for 
reinforcements  from  above. 

Not  long  did  they  remain  in  doubt,  if  they 
had  been  deceived  by  Phil's  dashing  move- 
ment, for  almost  at  the  next  instant  there 
came  from  the  border  of  the  stream  a  round 
of  shot  which  whizzed  in  close  proximity  to 
the  fleeing  Unionists. 

This  lent  new  strength  to  Phil's  energy, 
and  up,  up  he  climbed,  so  swiftly  that  St. 
Clair,  strong  as  he  was,  and  accustomed  to 
active  exercise,  panted  wearily  long  before 
the  top  was  reached. 

At  last  the  trio  found  themselves  fairly  on 
level  ground. 

Not  here  did  Phil  check  his  speed,  but 
plunged  at  once  still  further  and  further 
away  from  the  river. 

Now  and  then  shouts  came  from  behind, 
and  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  the  ohase 
was  soon  to  become  a  hot  one. 

But  hist! 

The  thunder  of  horses'  feet  along  the  edge 
of  the  bluff  fell  on  the  ears  of  the  retreating 
partv. 

Danger  was  closing  around  them  on  every 
hand. 

Shutting  his  teeth  hard  together,  Phil 
leaped  madly  on,  still  bearing  in  his  arms 
the  form  of  Molly. 

The  verge  of  the  forest  was  soou  reached. 

Its  friendly  shadows  gave  a  sense  of  se- 
curity to  the  trio. 

Surely,  her«  they  would  be  able  to  throw 
into  confusion,  if  only  for  a  few  brief  min- 
utes, their  pursuers. 

Hotly  rode  the  Confederates  now,  at  their 
head  the  evil  Oglethorpe. 

With  him  it  was  almost  life  or  death  to 
either  capture  St.  Clair  or  end  his  existence. 
Of  the  presence  there  of  Phil  Lamonte  he 
Knew  nothing. 

Confiding  in  those  he  had  dispatched  in  the 
boat  with  the  man  he  hated,  he  believed 
him  at  that  moment  safely  beneath  the 
waves  of  the  stream  below. 

Phil  could  hear  the  clatter  of  hoofs  grow- 
ing plainer  and  plainer  in  the  rear. 

Evidently  the  Confederates  were  gaining 
on  them. 

Something  desperate  must  be  done,  and 
done  quickly. 

Already  he  knew  that  the  rebels  had  gain- 
ed the  forest. 

He  could  distinguish  the  tones  of  Ogle- 
thorpe, as  he  commanded  his  men  to  sepa- 
rate and  search  the  wood  closely. 

Look  whichever  way  he  might,  naught 
but  an  interminable  waste  of  dense  forest 
trees  met  his  gaze. 

Huge  monarchs  of  a  century's  growth 
reared  their  lofty  heads  a  hundred  feet  in 
the  air  on  every  hand,  while  down  their 
sides  great  limbs  reached  out  in  every  direc- 
tion forming  a  shelter  which  the  sunlight 
seldom  penetrated. 

Suddenly  the  quick  eye  of  Phil  discovered 
a  place  of  escape  which  was  furthest  from 
his  mind. 

He  had  halted  for  an  instant  under  one  of 
the  giant  forest  trees,  listening  with  bated 


Turning  his  gaze  upward  for  the  purpose 
measuring  the  distance  to  the  lowest  branch, 
he  saw  a  wide  opening  in  the  trunk  ot  the 
tree,  half  concealed  by  a  leafy  bough  which 
drooped  over  it. 

"  I  believe  we  shall  elude  them  after  all," 
he  said,  in  a  low,  but  excited  tone.  "  Look 
up  yonder.  Do  you  notice  that  hole  in  the 
trunk  of  this  tree?  Unless  I  mistake,  it  ishol- 
low." 

"  If  that  be  true,  is  it  not  out  of  our  reach  ? 
It  must  be  ten  feet  from  the  ground.  How 
eau  we  gain  it'/" 

"I  propose  to  try  it,  anyway.  St.  Clair, 
mount  to  my  shoulder  and  see  if  you   can 


and  St.  Clair  sprung  upon  his  shoulder, 

Then  straightening  up,  Phil  lifted  his  com- 
panion  as  high  as  he  could. 

St.  Clair  easily  reached  the  opening,  and 
thrust  his  arm  far  mto  the  hollow  space. 
There  wasno  doubt  about  the  mutter;  there 
was  room  for  half  a  dozen  within  tlie  tr<^e. 

Springing  inside,  he  was  rejoiced  to  find 
that  it  was  but  afoot  or  two  down  before 
his  weight  rested,  apparently  on  solid  wood. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  he  whispered.  "There  is 
plenty  of  room  in  here." 

"Then  reach  down  and  help  Molly,"  was 
Phil's  answer,  as  he  raised  the  girl  toward 
the  opening. 

St.  Clair  did  as  instructed,  and  in  another 
instant  she  stood  beside  him. 

Phil  then  paused  to  gain  breath  for  a  leap 
upward  himself. 

Stepping  back  a  pace  or  two,  he  was  about 
to  spring  toward  the  hole  when  a  hand 
clutched  him  from  behind,  and  before  he 
could  make  a  move  to  help  himself  he  was 
thrown  prostrate  upon  the  ground  ! 

Glaring  into  his  face  were  the  dark,  bale- 
ful eyes  of  Oliver  Oglethorpe. 

Seeing  who  the  man  was  whose  escape  he 
had   prevented,  the  Confederate  exclaimed: 

"  You  here !  Am  I  awake  or  sleeping  ?  I 
thought  my  men  left  you  under  the  water 
out  yonder;  yet  I  find  you  here.  How  much 
lon&er  will  you  thrust  yourself  in  my  way? 
Not  once  more,  unless  my  hand  betrays  me 
now.  I'll  finish  this  work  myseli  and  have 
done  with  it." 

Thus  speaking,  he  pulled  a  pistol  and 
pointed  it  toward  the  breast  of  Phil. 

Just  then  the  Union  scout  gave  a  kick 
quicker  than  a  flash,  and  struck  the  legs  of 
Oglethorpe,  knocking  them  from  under  his 
body,  sending  him  headlong  upon  his  face. 

No  sooner  had  he  done  so  than  he  was  sur- 
rounded on  every  side  by  Confederate  horse- 
men. 

The  chance  for  escape  by  means  of  the  hol- 
low tree  was  now  very  small  indeed.  In  fact 
it  could  not  be  thought  of  longer.  Else- 
where must  he  turn  for  safety. 

Hardlj'  knowing  whither  he  was  going  the 
young  man  darted  away  from  the  tree.  He 
must  draw  attention  away  from  that,  or  his 
friends  inside  would  be  placed  in  imminent 
danger. 

Not  ten  steps  had  he  taken  when  he  found 
his  passage  barred  by  a  stout  rebel,  who  dis- 
puted the  way  with  a  drawn  sword. 


The  way  lay  open  before  him 

Straight  toward  the  stream  he  was  mark- 
ing his  course. 

"  After  him,  quick !"  yelled  Oglethorpe,  re- 
gaining his  feet.  "The  devil  seems  to  help 
the  rascal!  But  he  shall  not  escape  us! 
Fifty  dollars  to  the  man  who  shoots  him  ! 
After  him!" 

Phil  knew  everything  was  now  at  stake, 
and  the  words  of  Oglethorpe  aroused  him  to 
superhuman  efforts. 

The  thunder  of  horses  rushing  pell-mell 
through  the  forest,  and  the  yells  of  excited 
riders  mingled  to  make  the  scene  one  of 
thrilling  interest. 

Lights  began  to  flash  here  and  there  among 
the  trees. 

Several  Confederates  discharged  their 
weapons  at  random  in  the  darkness,  and  the 
bullets  went  hurtling  through  the  fohage 
around  him. 

It  was  useless  to  think  of  facing  such  a  mob 
of  infuriated  beings. 

Ho  knew  that  no  mercy  would  be  shown 
him  in  a  moment  likn  that,  and  that  hope  of 
safety  lay  only  in  flight. 

So  at  a  pace  which  carried  him  onward  al- 
most as  fast  as  a  horse  could  have  done,  Phil 
Lamonte  passed  the  edge  of  the  forest,  and 
dashed  through  the  narrow  strip  of  cleared 
ground  lying  between  it  and  the  river. 

When  he  rushed  out  upon  this  open  field 
he  came  fully  into  sight,  and  a  yell  of  tri- 
umph burst  from  the  throats  of  thepursuing 


umpb 
party. 


The  verge  of  the  bluff  now  yawned  at  his 
feet 

With  a  glance  back  at  his  foes,  the  intrepid 
youth  leaped  into  the  water  fifty  feet  be- 
low. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  CONFEDERATE'S  PLOT. 

Staudi 
in 
vei-  Oglethorpe  said: 

"It  is  just  as  well.  If  he  is  mad  enough  to 
take  his  own  life,  so  be  it.  It  simply  saves 
us  the  trouble.  Boys,  we  can  now  go  back 
to  camp.  Our  work  here  is  done.  No  man 
could  make  that  leap  and  live  We  all  know 
that.    We've  seen  the  last  of  Phil  Lamonte." 

As  he  spoke,  he  turned  his  horse's  head 
away  from  the  stream. 

Riding  ahead  a  few  paces,  he  niuttereil  to 
himself. 

"  Now,  Miss  Molly,  we'll  see  who  has  the 
game.  With  your  lover  dead,  and  you  and 
the  colonel's  old  enemy  up  a  tree,  the  pros- 
pect begins  to  look  brighter.  Lucky  I  dis- 
covered the  fellow  just  as  he  was  going  to 
make  that  leap.  I'm  sure  we  shall  find  the 
other  two  up  where  he  was  trying  to  get." 

Finding  his  way  back  to  the  hollow  tree, 
Oglethorpe  dismounted,  at  the  same  time 
saying  to  the  two  men  who  were  standing 
guard  beneath  the  opening: 

"  You  have  obeyed  orders  and  kept  close 
watch  here?" 

"  We  have,"  was  the  reply.  "  Not  so  much 
as  a  mouse  has  stirred  since  we  have  been  in 
this  place.  I  guess  you're  barking  up  the 
wrong  tree  this  time,  sure." 

"  We  can  tell  better  after  we've  explored 
the  recesses  of  this  tree.  I'm  going  in  my- 
self.   Here,  lend  me  a  hand,  one  of  you." 

Oglethorpe  leaped  upward  by  the  assistr 
ance  of  his  followers,  and  soon  was  sitting  on 
the  edge  of  the  hole,  peering  into  the  cavity 
before  him. 

Nothing  but  inky  darkness  stared  him  in 
the  face. 

He  shouted,  loudly : 

"  Halloo  in  there !  You  may  as  well  sur- 
render. We've  hunted  you  down,  and  you 
might  as  well  hope  to  escape  the  crack  of 
doom  as  to  slip  through  my  fingers  now.  Ol- 
iver Oglethorpe  is  a  man  who  never  makes 
a  mistake  in  the  long  run." 

There  came  from  the  yawning  cavity  no 
answer.  Only  the  dull  echo  of  hisown  voice 
responded. 

"  Trying  a  still  game,  are  they  ?"  continued- 
the Confederate  officer,  listening  a  moment. 
"  That  won't  work.  Hand  me  that  lantern, 
Dick.  We'll  throw  a  little  light  on  this  sub- 
ject. I'm  thinking  that  will  rout  them  out 
of  their  hiding  place." 

The  man  accosted  as  Dick  handed  the 
lantern  he  had  held  up  to  his  leader,  who 
took  it,  and  stretching  his  arm  out  in  the 
hollow  of  the  tree,  let  the  rays  of  the  lamp 
fall  into  the  opening. 

Then  an  exclamation  of  deepest  surprise 
burst  from  his  lips. 

The  place  was  empty ! 

Below  him  there  gaped  a  deep  abyss,  ap- 
parently without  bottom,  from  which  not 
the  slightest  sound  arose. 

Above  his  head  the  hole  gradually  gave 
way  to  solid  wood,  and  finally  came  to  an 
end  not  more  than  twenty  feet  beyond  his 
reach. 

Here  was  a  mystery  which  the  intellect  of 
Oglethorpe  could  not  fathom. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  after  all  he  had 
been  mistaken,  and  that  Phil  alone  had  tried 
to  escape  by  means  of  this  hole  1  He  did  not 
believe  it. 

He  had  seen  the  two  men,  one  of  whom 
was  bearing  a  woman's  form,  run  across  the 
cleared  space  on  this  side  the  stream.  They 
must  have  taken  refuge  here.  But  where 
were  they  now  ? 

It  was  a  question  he  could  not  answer  in 
any  way. 

"  By  my  soul !  They  have  cheated  me  in 
spite  of  fate!"  he  muttered,  as  he  swung 
himself  to  the  ground.  "  No  one  would  have 
been  fool  enough  to  jump  into  that  bottom- 
less pit,  that's  certain.  See  here,  Dick. 
Have  you  lied  to  me?"  he  said,  turning 
sharply  upon  the  rebel  soldier.  "  If  you 
have,  it  will  go  hard  with  you.  I  want  the 
bare  facts  about  this  matter.  Did  you  let 
those  prisoners  escape  ?" 

"  As  we  live,  captain,  no  one  has  made  his 
appearance  from  that  hole  since  we  have 
been  here,"  was  the  solemn  response.  "  I 
swear  it.    We  watched  it  narrowly,  know- 


ing  how  important  it  was  we  should  do  so; 
and  I'm  sure  I'm  uot  mistaken." 

•'  Well,  tliat  eertaiuly  isstrauRt,"  said  the 
Confederate.  "  I  eauuot  understand  it.  We 
might  as  well  give  up  the  chase.  We  l.ave 
beeu  outwitted  this  time,  sure.  But  I'll  he 
even  with  them  iu  the  end.  I  always  win 
in  the  end." 

MoiintiuR,  he  called  out  to  his  eompanions, 
who  liad  now  gathered  around  the  old  hol- 
low tree. 

"  B.ioli  to  camp,  boys.  You  needn't  try  to 
keep  Iraclt  of  me,  but  meet  mo  at  the  old 
place  to-morrow  night.  We'll  hare  lirismes* 
with  the  Yanks  in  a  day  or  two,  and  we  all 
want  !i  hand  in  the  fun.  You  may  run  onto 
thep  nous  we  have  been  looking  for  to- 
iii^'lK.  Remember  that  I  will  pay  tin:  man 
loii  I  .U'th.'it  shoots  the  fellow  and   brings 

H|)ntS)inrs  to  his  horse  as  lie  iluiahed 
K|i^;il;ing  and  disappeared  in  a  moment, 
while  his  followers  iu  a  troop  liegan  lieating 
ahoiit  the  forest  in  the  hope  of  dije-ivering 
the  couple  upon  whose  heads  a  reward  had 
heen  placed. 

Day  was  just  breaking  wlien  Oglethorpe 
presented  himself  at  the  quarters  ot  Culonel 
Fontiieroy.  He  had  determined  tuaiiuounce 
that  hi.s  mission  had  succeeded.  It  was  a 
bold  game,  since  he  in  truth  was  ignorant  ot 
the  whereabouts  of  the  man  whose  life  he 
liad  lieeii  sent  to  destroy. 

"  You  have  succeedert'y"  asked  the  Confed- 
erate colonel,  anxiously,  as  he  grasped  the 
hand  of  Oglethorpe. 

"  When  did  1  ever  fail  to  succeed  ?  Trust 
)  carry  out  your  plans,  and  I  prorai 


your  way.    Your  en- 


nothiiig  shall  st 
emy  is  removed, 

"Forever?" 

"Forever!" 

Oglethorpe  returned  the  searching  gaze  of 
Fontueroy  without  a  sign  of  flinching.  He 
must  not  betray  himself  now.  The  stake  was 
too  great. 

"You  are  a  reliable  man,  Oglethorpe.  I 
value  your  worth  more  and  more  highly,  the 
better  1  li  ■come  acquainted  with  you.  You 
have  dore  me  a  great  service,  and  I  appreci- 
ate it.  You  can  deiiend  upon  me  to  do  all  I 
can  to  gain  a  proiiidliou  for  yon.  As  for  the 
other  matter— the  aflair  with  Molly  Gramf— 
you  are  uot  in  a  hnrry  about  that.  The 
tim"3  are  too  full  of  interest  to  <iiir  common 
cause,  the  cause  of  the  South,  for  either  of 
us  to  think  very  seriously  ot  such  matters 
now;  when  the  time  comes,  however,  I  shall 
be  a  zealous  friend  in  your  behalf.  I  pr.imise 

The  Confederate's  face  at  that  moment 
wore  an  easier  look  than  had  rested  upon  it 
far  many  along  day.  It  meant  much  to  him 
to  know  that  Arthur  St.  Clair  would  never 
again  rise  up  liefore    him,  his  eyes  sinking 


dov 


iitoh: 


All  might  yet  go  right  with  him  in  his 
love  making. 

Hen-solved  at  least  not  to  admit  the  de- 
cided repulse  he  had  suffered  at  the  bands  of 
Laura. 

"Thank  you,  colonel.  I  don't  doubt  you 
will  see  me  through.  That  thought  has 
helped  me  a  great  deal  in  the  work  of  the 
past  few  days." 

The  colonel  started. 

He  did  not  like  to  hear  any  suggestion  of 
the  plot  he  had  employed   this  man  to  e.\e- 

"■Not  so  loud,  Oglethorpe,  please,"  he  said, 
casting  a  scan-d  glance  about  the  room. 
"  You  know  this  thing  must  never  fall  upon 
other  ears  than  ours.  It  would  mean  death 
to  us  it  it  should.  But  you  are  tired  now.  I 
have  other  work  for  you  to  do.  I  will  ex- 
plain, then  you  must  go  and  rest." 

"Ah!  what's  on  foot  now  ?" 

"  Such  a  surprise  for  General  Grant  as  he 
never  Ijefore  experienced.  Our  troops  now 
lie  up  near  Pittsburg.  As  yet  we  believe 
their  presence  is  not  dreamed  of  in  the 
Union  camp.  I  say  we  believe  this;  we 
want  to  know  whether  it  is  so  or  not.  I 
wish  you  to  find  out.  Will  you  undertake 
it?" 

"  You  mean  that  you  want  me  to  go  inside 
the  UniO'i  lines  and  find  out  positively 
whether  Grant  suspects  an  attack." 

"Exactly." 

"  It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  do." 

"  I  know  it,  and  I  have  for  that  reason 
chosen  you.  If  you  can't  do  it,  I  know  not 
whom  I  can  send." 

"  When  do  you  wish  me  tn  start  ?  ' 

"  As  soon  as  possible.  In  an  hour — two 
hours,  if  uot  so  soon.  The  attack  must  be 
made  within  twenty-four  hours,  if  at  all." 

••  I'll  go,  colonel,"  was  Oglethorpe's  reply. 
"  I  am  almost  tired  out,  but  I  am  ready  todo 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


my  best  for  you  and  the  couutrs'  I  love. 
Have  you  any  further  instructions  if" 

•■  Ouly  this— I  want  to  kimw  as  accurately 
as  possible  the  number  of  men  now  under 
Grant's  cominaud.  The  exact  geographical 
location  ot  his  camp  and  the  points  most 
vulneralde.  Make  full  notes  ot  all  these 
flings,  and  such  else  as  you  deem  important. 
Br  ng  ihem  to  me,  and  I  pledge  you  iny 
word  as  a  soldier,  you  shall  receive  the  rec- 
ognition vou  merit.  This  plan  of  attack  is 
partly  iiiiiie.  I  have  no  little  influence  with 
onr  commander-iu-chief,  and  whatever  I  ask 
will  be  granted." 

"Shcudd  these  notes  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  Unionists " 

•  But  they  must  not!  Destroy  them  flrst. 
But  I  have  taken  steps  to  guard  against  that. 
See  here." 

The  colonel  drew  from  a  closet  in  1  he  room 
a  |)air  ot  high  cavalry  boots. 

Pressing  a  secret  spring  in  the  heal  of  one 
them,  part  of  the  leather  flew  back. 

The  heel  was  hollow. 

"  Conceal  your  papers  here.  They  will  be 
perfectly  safe.  Even  in  case  you  are  dis- 
covered, there  can  be  no  possibility  of  this 
hollow  heel  being  found." 

"  It  is  an  ingenious  device.  I  will  risk 
wearing  them,"  said  Oglethorpe  putting  on 
the  boots. 

"  Be  careful  of  yourself,"  continued  the 
Confederate  oCBcer,  "  and  all  will  be  well." 

In  half  an  hour  Oglethorpe,  disguised  as  a 
Union  trooper,  rode  out  of  the  Confederate 
camp  and  took  his  course  toward  the  Ten- 
nessee. 

"  Fontneroy  asks  me  to  do  much,"  he  said, 
in  an  undertone,  as  he  swung  out  upon  the 
road,  "  but  a  day  of  reckoning  comes  by 
and  bv.  Then  this  will  be  made  right.  He 
is  in  my  power.  I  will  let  him  know  it  if 
worst  comes  to  worst." 

Fontneroy,  watching  the  departure  of 
Oglethorpe  muttered,  as  he  stood  by  the 
open  window: 

"  Fool !  I  wonder  if  he  thinks  I  would  let 
him  hold  me  in  his  power!  He  knows  my 
secret,  and  would  not  hesitate  to  betray  me 
it  he  thought  it  for  his  interest  to  do  so.  I 
would  be  untrue  fo  myself  did  I  not  take 
steps  fo  protect  myself.  Look  well  to  your- 
self,   Oliver    Oglethorpe.      You    know    too 


17 


There  was  a  smile  of  fiendish  glee  on  the 
face  of  Fontneroy  as  he  seated  himself  at  a 
lal.le  and  rapidly  wrote. 

These  were  his  words  ; 

"  Gknkral  :— Youdb  Oglethorpe  haa  done  what  I  pre- 
dicted that  he  had  in  mind  aomo  time  ago.  I  have 
watched  him  closely  and  have  only  this  moment  reach- 
ed tile  point  where  I  can  safely  speatt.  Ue  has 
espoused  the  Union  cause.      I   have  positive   bnowi- 


1  Unionists.    Not  i 


1  ot  his  left  boot.   The  right  . 


one  under  the  present  circumstances.    Yours,  respect- 
fully, Fontneroy." 

Concluding  this  letter,  the  colonel  sum- 
moned a  trusted  messenger  and  dispatched  it 
in  haste  to  General  Beauregard. 

Left  alone  once  more  the  Confederate 
seized  his  hat  and  hurried  away. 

There  was  a  look  ot  shrewd  villainy  upon 
his  countenance. 

He  was  playing  a  deep  game. 

Less  than  an  hour  a  squad  of  men  filed  on 
horseback  out  upon  the  highway  and  took 
the  same  way  Oglethorpe  had  taken  a  short 
time  previous. 

Their  leader  had  instructions  to  pursue, 
overtake  and  arrest  him  as  a  traitor-spy. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

ox   THE   WRONG   ROAD. 

Meantime,  Oliver  Oglethorpe  was  riding 
furiously  toward  the  camp  of  General  Grant. 

While  he  had  really  at  heart  nothing  but 
his  own  intc  csts,  he  was  deceived  enough  to 
think  that  his  mi. cess  in  this  new  nndeitak- 
ing  would  inateiially  enhance  his  prospects 
for  mililarv  advuneeinent  as  well  as  lor 
gaining  the  heart  and  hand  of  pretty  Molly 
Grame,  and  he  nerved  himself  for  the  task 
before  him  right  valliautly. 

Galloiiing  along  the   highw 


ought 
suddenly  occurred  to  hi 

A  Union  general  was  approaching  with  re- 
euforeemcnts  for  Grnnt.  The  presence  ot 
the  troops  under  him  might  have  great 
weight  upon  the  result  iit  the  impending 
combat. 

Could  lie  lint  in  some  way  manage  to  delay 
the  arrival  of  this  general,  and  still  do  the 
work  assigned  him  ? 

The  idea  took  firm  possession  of  the  young 


man's  mind,  and  at  the  next  turn  in  the  road 
he  branched  oft  and  pressed  at  the  highest 
possible  rate  ot  speed  in  the  direction  from 
which  the  Unionists  were  advancing. 

It  was  noon  when  he  came  in  sight  of  the 
Union  forces. 

As  jet,  no  definite  plan  had  presented  it- 
self by  which  he  could  accomplish  his  de- 
sign. 

Several  schemes  had  run  through  hia 
mind.  None  had  been  adopted.  He  had 
decided  to  let  chance  suggest  the  course  he 
should  pursue. 

And  fori  line  favored  him.  as  it  has  many 
an  evil  designer  iu  the  past. 

He  found  the  Unionists  halted.it  theraeel- 
ing  ot  two  ways. 

Here  wasau  opportunity. 

The  Union  general,  and  every  man  under 
him  was  a  stranger  in  that  section  of  the 
country. 

Seeing  Oglethorpe  in  Union  uniform,  they 
naturally  took  him  for  a  friend. 

"  t'an  you  tell  us  which  of  these  roads  leads 
to  Pittsburg  Landing?'  asked  the  general. 
Ills  face  Wearing  an  expression  ot  anxiety. 
"  I  .iudge  you  maybe  more  familiar  with  this 
country  than  we  are." 

"  I  am  proud  to  be  of  service  to  you,  sir," 
was  Oglethorpe's  response.  "You  are  right 
ill  thinking  I  am  no  stranger  in  this  locality. 
I  can  guide  you  straight  to  the  quarters  of 
General  Grant,  If  you  wish.  The  road  to  the 
left  hand  leads  out  into  the  country;  the 
other  will  bring  you  to  Pittsburg  Lauding 
and  Grant's  camp." 

The  Union  general  thanked  Oglethorpe 
with  true  gentlemanly  courtesy. 

"Do you  come  recently  from  the  Union 
lines?" 

"  This  morning's  sun  saw  me  there,'  was 
the  reply. 

"  You  can  tell  me  the  situation,  then  f " 

"  General  Grant  is  anxiously  waiting  your 
approach  and  that  of  General  Buell.  He 
then  intends  to  push  on  to  Corinth." 

"  Ah!  then  we  must  be  on  again  at  once." 

And  the  general  immediately  gave  orders 
for  the  advance. 

Oglethorpe,  chuckling  at  his  success, 
watched  the  Union  troops  tillfairly  upon  the 
road  he  had  pointed  out  to  the  general,  then 
waichinghis  opportunity,  he  slipped  away 
toward  Pittsburg  Landing,  leaving  the  Union 
troops  to  wander  far  out  of  their  proper 
course. 

Who  shall  measure  the  effect  of  this  action 
upon  the  great  contest  at  Pittsburg  Land- 
ing? 

Had  these  troops  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  spot  where  his  superior  officer  lay  wait- 
ing Ills  approach  at  the  time  he  would  have 
done,  had  he  not  been  misguided  by  Oliver 
Oglethorpe,  the  historian  might  have  writ- 
ten a  tar  different  story  of  that  struggle. 

But  fate  had  already  a  punishment  in  store 
for  the  wily  Confederate. 

"The  feet  of  the  Union  army  had  not  car- 
ried them  out  ot  the  reach  of  his  ears  when 
he  saw  rapidly  approaching  from  Corinth  a 
troop  of  men  whose  dress  told  on  which  side 
they  fought. 

Not  suspecting  danger,  Oglethorpe  rode  to 
meet  them. 

As  soon  as  they  had  surrounded  him  the 
leader  saitl : 


terror,  swept  over  Oglethorpe's  features. 

"  Arrest  me !     A  spy  !"  he  gasped. 

"That  was  our  iuslruetioii." 

"But  there  must  be  some  grave  mistake. 
See  here,  Captain  Drury,  you  know  me  well. 
Surely  you  will  uot  jest  with  me  about  such 
a  matter  as  this." 

"  What  are  you  doing  iu  that  uniform  ?" 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  carry  out  a  piece  of 
work  intrusted  to  me  by  Colonel  Fontne- 
roy." 

"Would  you  mind  letting  me  e.xamme 
your  boots,  Oglethorpe?  I  confess  I  have 
always  thought  you  straight;  but  some  one 
has  led  the  general  to  believe  that  you  are 
not ;  in  tai't,  that  you've  turned  traitor." 

"Of  course  ytui  may  examine  me  as  care- 
fully as  you  like,"  siiid  the  surprised  mau, 
throwing  himself  from  the  saddle.  "  You'H 
find  I  am  all  right.  I'd  like  to  know  who 
the  enemy  is  that  has  told  the  general  such 
an  Infernal  lie  about  me !  Not  a  man  under 
the  stars  and  bars  has  a  truer  heart  than  I 
have." 

Shortly,  Oglethorpe  had  his  boots  off  and 
was  waiting  the  result  of  the  examination. 

"  Captain  Drury,  I  can  trust  you  with  the 
secret  ot  these  boots.  See  here.  This  sjn  ing 
under  the  spur  throws  back  the  heel.  It  is 
hollow.  I  am  going  to  bring  back  from  the 
Union  side  full  particulars  of  the  number  of 


18 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


men  they  have.  You  see  it  is  empty.  Great 
Heaven!     What  is  that  ?" 

0(;k'thorpe  had  thrown  open  one  o(  the 
heels  as  he  exclaimed : 

It  was  erammed  full  of  paper ! 

"  This  looks  suspicions,  to  say  the  least," 
said  Captain  Drury,  pulling  the  papers  from 
their  place  of  security. 

"  I  fs  a  plot  against  me.  I  know  this  charge 
against  me  is  false!"  cried  Oglethorpe  wild- 
ly. "  Read  the  papers.  They  are  all  right," 
he  continued,  more  hopefully.    "  It  must  be 

The  Confederate  captain  straightened  out 
the  wriukleil  papers  and  began  to  read. 

"They  aye  addressed  to  General  Grant," 
he  said,  ■•  and  give  him  a  full  account  of  the 
intended  attack  upon  him  at  Pittsburg 
Landing.  I  must  do  my  duty,  Oglethorpe, 
and  take  you  back  to  the  general.  This  is 
all  a  mystery  to  me,  but  there  is  nothing 
else  to  do." 

The  young  man  was  dumfounded  at  the 
discovery,  and  again  and  again  protested  his 
innocence. 

"  Yes ;  take  me  at  once  to  Colonel  Fontne- 
roy,"  he  said.  "  He  knows  the  secret  of 
these  boots,  and  that  not  a  breath  can  be 
raised  against  mj'  loyalty.  I  am  willing  to 
go  with  you." 

But  upon  reaching  Corinth  the  colonel 
was  not  to  be  found. 

He  had  not  been  seen  since  morning. 

General  Beauregard,  having  learned  that 
the  suspected  man  had  beeu  arrested,  com- 
manded an  immediate  trial. 

Upon  the  earnest  appeal  of  Oglethorpe, 
however,  he  was  imprisoned  to  wait  the  re- 
turn of  the  colonel. 

Challng  sorely,  and  lamenting  his  fate,  the 
prisoner  paced  up  and  down  his  cell  all  night 
long,  hoping  hourly;  that  Pontneroy  would 
appear  and  secure  his  immediate  release. 

He  did  not  come. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

IX    A   PERILOUS  POSITION. 

With  a  splash,  Phil  Lamonte  struck  the 
water  of  the  stream  into  which  he  had  leap- 
ed from  the  rocky  clitf  when  so  closely  pur- 
sued by  the  Confederates. 

Sinking  beneath  the  sur 
appear  for  some  time,  ai 
was  iu  such  adazed  condition  that  he  hardly 
know  where  he  was  or  what  to  do  save  to  him- 
self. 

His  scattered  senses  began  to  come  to  him 
after  awhile,  however,  and  he  at  once  struck 
out  for  the  shore. 

was  the 
poiii  ■    •       ' 
that  he  made  the  slightest  progress. 

Several  times  he  was  almost  within  reach 
of  the  bushes  growing  along  shore,  when 
the  current  would  draw  him  almost  breath- 
less back,  where  he  swam  panting  and  near- 
ly exhausted  for  some  time. 

Meantime  he  was  drifting  down  the  stream 
more  rapidly  than  his  benumbed  faculties 
led  him  to  believe;  and  after  the  space,  per- 
haps, of  ten  minutes,  he  found  himself  float- 
ing in  still  water,  under  a  high,  sheltering 
bank,  which  rose  almost  perpendicularly 
above  his  head. 

E.xerting  liimself  to  the  utmost,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  swunming  near  enough  to  the  edge 
of  the  stream  to  clutch  the  branch  of  a  tree 
whicn  grew  low  down  to  the  water  and 
draw  himself  up  to  the  dry  ground. 

Lying  quietly  there  for  some  time  he  re- 
gained sufficient  strength  to  enable  him  to 
rise  and  look  about  him. 


no  way  out  of  it. 

The  sky  had  become  overcast,  and  a  few 
heavy  drops  of  rain  fell  upon  the  branches 
of  the  trees  along  the  stream,  heralds  of  the 
coming  storm. 

This  helped  to  make  Phil's  position  far 
from  enviable,  though  he  was  already  soaked 
through  and  through  by  reason  of  his  recent 
voyage  in  the  water. 

But  our  hero  knew  no  such  thing  as  inac- 
tion.   Much  was  dependent  upon  him. 

He  feared,  and  the  fear  lent  wings  to  his 
feet,  that  already  he  would  be  too  late  in  de- 
livering the  message  from  General  Buell. 

He  must  go  on— must  reach  the  Union  lines 
before  he  rested. 

These  thoughts  aroused  him  fully,  and 
with  his  old-time  activity  he  started  ou  a  run 
back  up  the  streani. 

Not  far  had  he  progressed  when  the  mouth 
of  a  dismal  cave  yawned  before  him. 

With  no  other  thought  than  that  of  curi- 
osity, the  young  man  walked  a  few  paces 
into  the  cave  and  listened. 

For  a  time  naught  but  the  ceaseless  drip  of 


water  trickling  from  the  roof  of  the  cavern 
was  to  be  heard. 

But  suddenly  from  some  point  far  within 
there  came  the  sound  of  human  voices. 

Here  was  something  which  might  be  worth 
investigating;  and  fearlessly  the  scout  ad- 
vauced,  pausing  every  few  paces  to  listen 
for  a  repetition  of  the  sound. 

The  cave,  widening  the  further  it  extended 
under  the  bank,  was  becoming  lower  and 
lower;  overhead  he  could  almost  touch  liis 
hands.  The  iloor  began  to  rise  by  degrees. 
A  few  steps  more  and  he  heard  the  voices 
again. 

Running  as  rapidly  as  he  could  iu  the  di- 
rection indicated  by  the  noise,  he  again 
waited  breathlessly. 

After  a  moment  he  heard  a  voice   which 
sent  a  thrill  throueh  his  whole  being. 
It  was  that  of  Molly  Grame. 
Half  iu  terror  and    halt  in  astonishment 
Phil  made  his  way  onward. 

What  was  the  meaning  of  this  new  rev- 
elation ? 
How  had  Molly  come  in  that  cave? 
Had  he  not  left  her  iu  safety  in  the   heart 
of  the  hollow  tree? 

A  singular  event  indeed  had  befallen  St. 
Clair  and  Molly,  whom  we  last  saw  in  the 
hollow  tree. 

They  had  caught  the  cry  of  Oglethorpe  as 
he  discovered  Phil  Lamonte,  but  they  heard 
little  else  from  the  outside  world. 

As  they  stood  thus  listening,  St.  Clair 
bending  his  head  out  of  the  opening  so 
that  he  could  see  the  position  of  the  two 
rivals  outside,  ready  to  leap  down  should  his 
help  be  needed,  and  Molly,  waiting  witli 
clasped  hands  the  result  of  the  stru;;Kle,  all 
at  once  something  beneath  their  feet  seemed 
to  give  way,  and  they  felt  themselves  slowly 
sinking  below  the  surface  of  the  earth. 

Frantically  Molly  clutched  the  arm  of  her 
companion,  but  uttered  no  cry  of  alarm. 

Even  under  these  thrilling  circumstances 
her  bravery  did  not  forsake  her. 

Deeper  and  still  deeper  sunk  the  mass  of 
wood,  rotten  and  damp,  which  had  formed 
the  inside  of  the  tree,  carrying  with  it  a  thin 
shell  of  earth  which  alone  had  sustained  it 
before  the  added  weight  of  the  couple  had 
been  placed  upon  it. 
Faster  and  Faster  now  became  their  speed. 
Would  there  be  no  end  to  this  awful  jour- 


was  a  dull  roaring  somewhere  in   the  di 
tance. 

In  Heaven's  name,  what  was  this  mystery  ? 

Had  the  earth  swallowed  them  up  forever? 

Suddenly  with  a  crash  that  hurled  them 
stunned  together  on  the  ground  their  ride 
through  space  came  to  at 


tell  1 


rt?  Qt, 


The  girl,  slowly  raising  herself  on  one  el- 
bow, replied: 

"I  don't  think  I  am.  I  think  no  bones  are 
broken.  But  do  you  suppose  this  trip  is 
over,  or  are  we  liable  to  go  on  again  pretty 
soon?' 

The  dazed  manner  in  which  she  spoke 
made  the  young  man  tremble  lest  she  might 
be  really  more  seriously  injured  than  he  had 
hoped;  yet  despite  his  anxiety  there  was 
something  ludicrous  iu  the  words  she  used. 

Groping  to  the  spot  where  she  lay,  St. 
Clair   gently  lifted   Molly  to  a  sitting  post- 

"I  fear  you  are  not  unhurt,"  he  said.  "Are 
you  sure  you  are  not  /  " 

"  As  sure  as  I  can  be  of  anything  here," 
was  the  answer.  "  I  half  expect  to  start  out 
again  on  this  wonderful  trip  into  the  bowels 
of  the  earth." 

"  No  ;  we  have,  I  think,  reached  bottom," 
said  St.  Clair.  "  And  what  will  be  the  out- 
come of  our  adventure  is  what  troubles  me 
at  present.  As  soon  as  you  are  able  to  travel 
we  had  better  set  out  on  a  tour  of  explora- 
tion." 

"I  am  ready,  then,"  said  Molly,  rising  in- 
stantly, with  all  her  former  vigor.  "lam 
anxious  to  solvethis  problem  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible.    What  do  you  think  became  of  Phil  ?" 

Her  own  surroundings  were  not  so  grave 
that  she  had  not  a  thought  for  the  daring 
young  man  she  loved  so  well. 

"That  is  more  than  I  can  say.  lean  only 
hope  for  the  best.  He  was  in  a  desperate 
strait;  but  he  is  able  to  cope  with  keener 
men  than  Oliver  Oglethorpe.  Are  you  sine 
you  are  able  to  go  on  now  y" 

•'  I  am  strong  again  ;  the  fall  did  give  iiie 
quite  a  shock,  I  admit.  I  will  soon  be  en- 
tirely over  it.  But  you— are  you  uninjured?" 

"My  good  fortune  has  not  forsaken  me.  I 
am  all  right;  take  my  arm  and  we  will  pro- 
ceed." 


Setting  out  thus  they  wandered  aimlessly 
about  under  ground  tor  some  time,  without 
making  any  aiiparent  progress  toward  Hnd- 
iiig  awayoutfnuu  tliis  dungeon. 

The  horiible  liiouglit  would  ever  and  anon 
force  itself  upon  the  minds  ol  both  that  they 


•d  fo 


1  lie  laiicy  was  tar  from  pleasant. 

Still,  ou  and  on  they  walked,  now  and  then 
stiiiMliliiig  heavily  in  the  almost  paipable 
darkness. 

Despair  was  beginningto  faslen itself  upon 
tluii'  hearts,  when  from  some  place  out  in 
the  black  space  before  them  there  came  the 
the  sound  of  a  voice. 

"Hello!" 

Thank  God !  it  was  a  human  voice. 

"Hello!"  answered  St.  Clair.  "  Who  are 
you?  Come  this  way;  we're  lost.  Can  von 
help  us?" 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence. 

It  seemed  an  age. 

Then  footsteps  came  crunching  the  sandy 
floor  of  the  cave. 

"Am  I  mistaken?"  questioned  the  voice 
now  quite  close;  "or  am  I  near  St.  Clair  ano" 
Molly  Grame?" 

"You  are  right,"  responded  the  strang( 
man,  not  yet  recognizing  the  tone  of  the  ap- 
proaching man,  while  Molly  exclaimed,  hei 
heart  bounding  to  her  mouth  : 

"  Phil,  it  is  you  ;  I  know  it.  Come  this  way 
and  tell  us  how  in  the  name  id  all  that  is 
wonderful  you  came  in  this   ten  ihle  place.' 

tion,"  said  'piiil,  a'great  feeling'  uf  rebel 
spriuging  up  within  him  ;  ami  lumiug  for- 
ward he  clasped  the  hands  of  both  liisfricndi 
in  a  grasp  tliat  spoke  volumes. 

He  now  had  companions. 

That  means  much  to  a  man  iu  misfortune. 

We  pass  the  explanations  that  ensued,  and 
follow  ourfrieuds  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave 
which  Phil,  having  carefully  noted  the  di- 
rect ion  he  took  on  going  in,  was  able  to  Bud 
readily  enough. 

With  a  sigh  which  told  how  great  a  load 
had  beeu  taken  from  her  mind,  Molly  said: 

"  I  hope  never  to  have  such  an  adventure 
again.  I  ivould  much  rather  face  this  drizzling 
storm  than  grope  about  iu  such  an  awful 
place  as  that." 

"  I  must  go  on,"  said  Phil.  "  I  am  not  sure 
that  you  had  not  better  remain  beneath  the 
shelter  of  this  cave  till  morning;  the  way  is 
so  dark  and  gloomy." 

*'  I  am  ready  to  share  it  with  you,"  said 
Molly,  quickly. 

And -Phil,  leaning  down  in  the  darkness, 
found  a  pair  of  ruby  lips  ready   to  meet  his. 

"I  surely  shall  not  remain  here  alone,"  said 
St.  Clair.  "So  it  seems  we  are  fated  to  go 
on  together  for  a  time  at  least.  But  can  you 
tell  which  way  to  tuiii  ?  ' 

"If  you  are  ready,  follow  rue,' was  Phil'J 
only  answer. 

In  a  short  time  they  were  once  more  ou 
the  road  lo  Pittsburg  Lamliug. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PITTSBURG     LANDING. 

April  G,  1862. 

Although  it  was  the  Sabbath  day,  Gei.eral 
Grant,  the  stem  Union  commander,  sat 
anion;;  his  papers,  hard  at  work. 

Notw  iiiistaudiiig  it  was  yet  long  before 
daybreak,  and  through  camp  naught  was  to 
be  heard  but  the  tread  of  sentinels  pacing 
up  aud  down  their  lonely  beats,  this  man, 
who  never  worried,  who  never  knew  the 
beginuiug  nor  eud  of  a  day,  toiled  on. 

As  he  sat  thus,  an  attendant  thrust  his 
head  through  a  crack  in  the  door  aud  said,  in 
a  quiet  tone,  as  if  afraid  to  disturb  the  gen- 
eral. 

"  Pardon  me,  general,  but  there  is  a  wo- 
man here  who  .says  she  must  see  you  at 
once.  We  can't  get  rid  of  her.  What  shall 
we  do?" 

"A  woman.  Wants  to  see  me,"  repeated 
General  Grant,  looking  up  for  a  momeut 
from  his  table.  "  Let  her  come  in.  The  best 
way  to  get  along  with  women  is  to  give 
them  their  own  way.    Show  heriu." 

Pi'eseiitly  the  door  opened  agaiu,  and  a 
beauliful  girl  stood  before  the  general. 

Giiiiit  started  slightly  as  his  eyes  rested  on 
thi-i  uue.\pected  sight. 

He  had  looked  simplv  for  some  half-crazed 
erealiue,    such   as    constantly  followed  the 


"  I  am  Laura  Doaue,"  said  the  new-oomer. 
I  have  just  come  from  near  Corinth." 
••  Cut  luth  !     Ah  !  Beauregard  is  there." 
And  lie  gazed  sharply  upon  his  visitor  now. 
His  interest  was  awakened. 
"  But  he  will  not  long  be  there." 


THE  WAR  I.IBRABY. 


19 


"He  won't?"  ^^     , 

"  No.  General,  he  Intends  to  attack  you 
soon— this  day,  perhaps.  Even  now  his 
troops  lie  at  Pittsburg  Landing,  or  very  near 
there.  The  plan  is  to  surprise  you  and 
crush  you  here  beyond  recovery." 

The  old,  undisturbed  look  eanie  back  to 
the  leatures  of  the  general.    He  was  incred- 

"  Girl,  you  are  beside  yourself,"  he  said. 
"Do  you  suppose,  if  all  this  were  true,  my 
trusty  scouts  would  not  have  brought  me 
somethinsof  ilV  The  idea  is  absurd.  Sur- 
prise me!"  .     ,     ,, 

"Eveu  you  may  be  surpri.ied.  General 
Grant,"  cried  Laura,  firmly.  "  I  know  what 
I  speak  is  true.  I  have  it  from  the  lips  of 
tlie  nnin  who  plauued  the  attack.  I  tell  you 
to  be  on  your  guard." 

The  geueral  laughed  a  little. 

Yet  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  the  words 
of  the  girl  were  beginning  to  take  a  hold  up- 

What  if  Beauregard  should  attack  him  as 

this  stranger  intimated  ? 
The  thought  was  unpleasant. 
"Well,  my  fair  young  friend,  I  promise 

you  that  I  will  give  this  matter  thought,  aud 

if  I  find  you  speak  advisedly,  you  shall  not 

repentcoming  here  through  the  dark.  I  will 

remember  the  name  of  Laura  Doane." 
Too  late  was  it  even  then  to  give  the  mat- 
Even  as  tlie  general  spoke,  the  door  of  the 

apartment  in  whicli  he  sat  was  hurled  open, 

aud  a  young  man  entered. 
It  was  Phil  Lamonte. 
Almost  breathlessly   he    east   down  upon 

the  table  the  dispatches,  torn  and  crumpled, 

which  he  had  borne  from  Buell. 
"lam  too  late,  general,"  he  said,  pacing 

up  aud  down  the  room,  his  cap  in  his  hand. 

"Heaven  knows  I  could  not  help  it.    I  have 

done  my  best." 
The  general,  without  exhibiting  a  sign  of 

surprise,  tore  open  the  package  and   began 

Before  he  had  finished  a  single  line  he 
turned  toward  a  bell. 

At  that  moment  there  came  from  without 
a  wild  cry  of  mingled  alarm  and  terror. 

Theavalauche  was  descending. 

Let  us  take  a  look  about  the  Union  camp 
at  that  moment.  „  r  ,  „^^ 

The  scene  was  one  to  impress  itself  forever 
upon  the  memory.  .     ,  , 

The  gray  morning  light  was  just  begin- 
ning to  break  over  the  eastern  hills. 

lu  their  quarter  many  offleers  were  yet 
fast  in  the  arms  of  sleep,  oblivious  of  the 
impending  tornado,  while  some,  half-dressed, 
were  in  quiet  leisure  completing  their  toilet. 

Part  of  the  soldiers  were  washing.  Some 
were  engaged  in  preparing  their  morning 
meal.  Others  had  finished  their  duty,  and 
were  eating  breakfast.  ,     a      , 

Everywhere  order  and  a  real  Sunday 
morning  quietude  reigned  over  all. 

Still  at  that  very  instant  a  tornado  was 
sweeping  toward  that  peaceful  camp. 

Already  its  mutterings  could  be  heard  m 
the  distance. 

A  moment  transformed  all. 

Hark !  ^     ,  .       .    , 

With  a  yell  a  picket  came  dashing  m ! 

Then  another  scout  made  his  appearance. 

What  a  change! 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  soldiers  sprung 
up  and  rushed  in  confusion  to  and  fro. 

Ofticers  hastily  threw  themselves  into  the 
saddle. 

The  bugle  sounded  to  arms ! 

The  next  moment  shells  came  screaming 
through  the  forest,  and  a  shower  of  bullets 
sung  among  the  tents. 

It  was  iudeed  a  scene  of  terror. 

Hardee  threw  his  forces  with  fearful  vio- 
len'-eupon  the  troops  of  General  Sherman, 
who  half  bewildeied,  and  hardly  knowing 
whither  to  turn,  dealt  terrific  blows  every- 

llalf'  dressed,  many  out  of  their  own  or- 
ganizations and  poorly  equipped,  theLuion- 
&t3 contested  every  inch  of  the  way  against 
their  antagonists,  but  were  forced  back  step 
bv  step  in  confusion. 

"Then  fearful  results  ensued. 

This  division  having  been  overwhelmed, 
that  held  by  General  Prentiss  was  attacked. 

The  result  was  the  same.  The  Union  col- 
umn was  shattered  and  the  ground  strewn 
with  dead  and  dying. 

General  Prentiss,  with  a  large  portion  of 
his  brave  boys  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy;  and  with  sharp  cries  of  victory,  the 


Aluiost  hand  to  hand  the  opposing  forces 
fought  for  ten  long  hours. 

Now  oue  side  held  the  disputed  ground, 
now  the  other. 

It  was  Northern   patriot 
try   and   liberty 

Earnest  men,  and    calm   against  deceived 
yet  impulsive,  hot-headed  partisans. 
Step    by    step,  Ml.nusl  iii.li    by    inch,    the 

^'wUl/'skVl'l^  aVnVu^t"  ''n'i'|':u'';''lleled,  Geueral 
Grant  diVeeted  his  t.. ,•,,-.  ;u.<l  with  bull-dog 
tenacity 


.inst    belief 


iM  ins  own 


It\ 


usele 


■ir  antagonists  slowly  before 
them  "the  "enthusiastic  Confederates  occu- 
pied poiut  after  point,  from  which  the 
Un  oni^t^  Ind  been  dislodged,  until  only  the 
camp  ..1  <,eneral  \V.  H.  L.  Wallace,  who  had 
fallen  in  tlie  thickest  of  the  fray,  now  in 
comnmnd  of  General  McArthur,  remained 
in  the  hands  of  the  Uuionists.  ,.     ™  „ 

Geueral  Grant  now  rested,  with  the  Ten- 
nessee swollen  and  turbulent  at  his  back. 

The  day  was  lost  to  the  Union  troops. 

Who  shall  picture  the  weaiy  heart  with 
which  the  commander  acknowledged  his 
impending  defeat? 

It  was  terrible. 

From  the  throats  of  the  overjoyed  Beaure- 
gard "s  men  went  up  a  shout  of  victory. 

The  news  was  sent  clicking  over  wires  to 
Richmond.  ,  ,  .. 

He  had  fulfilled  his  pledge  made  on  the 
evening  of  the  fifth,  when  he  said  to  his  as- 
sociates in  council,  pointing  toward  the 
Northern  army :  .  , 

"  Gentlemen,  we  sleep  in  the  enemy  s  camp 
to-morrow  night."  .     ,,.a  j  , 

Was  his  cry  of  victory  justified  ? 

Ask  the  calm  historian  who  wrote  the 
story  of  those  two  bloody  days,  and  he  will 

-■  ••    '  "istead  of  sitting  down  m  Gen- 

mn-  if  Beauregard  at  twilight 

Luo  oijv^u  ,-»  ^.1-..., ruck  one  more 

strong  blow  the'day  "'might  have  been  really 
gained,  the  palm  of  triumph  indeed  rested 
in  his  hands. 

But  this  he  did  not  do.  ,.    j     ,. 

Feeling  too  sure  of  the  final  issue,  he  dealt 
his  iron-willed  foe  a  feeble  stroke,  which""- 

"^An^dTh"  result  of  the  awful  strugglt 
Pittsburg  Landing  on  that  gloomy  night  still 
remain  an  open  question. 


Confederates  rushed 
into  the  camp. 

Then  the  struggle    be. 
deed. 


iuf  uriated  demons 


CHAPTER   XX. 

UNDER    THE     BARS, 

That  night,  while  the  Union  troops,  worn 
out  by  the  terrible  conflict  of  the  day,  were 
resting  wherever  they  happened  to  be,  their 
leader  was  planning  to  recover  the  grc—-' 
which  had  been  lost  ,,   ,      .         ^ 

Not  a  shadow  of  despair  could  be  traced 
upon  his  features  as  he  sat  in  his  tent. 

There  was  the  same  inipertnrbab.e  look  on 
his  face,  the  same  given  air  of  determina- 
tion- ,_    J  J 

The  hour  of  nine  had  arrived. 

A  minute  or  two  afterward  a  young  man 
rode  hastily  up  to  Grant's  quarters  and  de- 
manded admittance.  ,    .^  .     ...       ., 

The.ightof  the  lantern  held  m  the  hand 
of  the  suspicious  sentry  outside,  revealed  the 
face  of  Phil  Lamonte. 

"I  tell  you  I  must  see  the  general! 

The  tone  was  impressive. 

Hearing  the  voice,  the  general  called  out : 

"Pass  that  man  immediately!'' 

Apologizing,  the  sentry  stepped  aside  and 
allowed  our  hero  to  pass. 

"  What  do  you  bring  me  to-night .' 

"Good  news,  I  think." 

"That  General  Buell  will  arrive  to-night." 

"Ah!  That  is  indeed  refreshing.  From 
what  source  do  you  learn  this?" 

"  I  left  him  not  two  hours  ago. 

"So  late  as  that!  Then  he  must  be  very 
near.  You  think  he  can  reach  us  in  time  to 
help  us?"  .       ,  ,     „    ..„ 

The  general  peered  curiously  up  tioni  un- 
der his  eyebrows  at  the  young  man. 

"I  know  he  can.  General,  this  hour  to- 
morrow will  see  us  hot  upon  the  heels  of 
those  men  yonder." 

And  he  pointed  toward  the  rebel  aim> . 

"You seem  enthusiastic." 

"  I  am,"  was  the  proud  response,  and  1 
know  the  worth  of  my  leader." 

Grant  bowed  politely. 

"  If  the  history  of  this  day  were  to  decide 
mv  reputation  as  a  soldier,  I  fear  your  con- 
fidence would  be  shaken.  But  now  thatyou 
are  here  I  wish  to  give  you  a  dangerous  piece 

\  .^f  -^n^lr-        A»,ci  T-rAii  rpfldv  for  it  ? 

me  to  do  shall  be 


"True  grit,"  smiled  the  general. 

It  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  he  held  Phil 
Lamonte  to  be  a  hero.      _ 

"  I  shiill  iiak  yon  to  go  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  Confederate  camp." 

Philstarte.l  a  little,  but  recovered. 

"If  you  liiid  into  thi'  tent  of  Beauregard 
himself,  1  would  undei  lake  it." 

"lani  not  sore  tliut  tiie  task  will  not  call 
yon  there.  What  1  wish  you  to  do  is  to  as- 
certain as  accurately  as  yon  can  the  precise 
strength  of  the  Confederates,  and  their  ge- 
ographical location.  This  can  best  bo  learned , 
from  some  one  in  command,  say  the  gen- 
erals. Now  this  will  take  some  tune.  I  want 
to  niak.'  an  early  attack.  I  have  just  learned 
through  a  scout  from  General  Lew  Wallace, 
that  he  was  led  astray  at  a  cross-road,  and 
went  far  out  of  the  way.  With  his  force 
added  to  tliat  of  Buell,  I  think  we  can  wrest 
from  the  hands  of  Beauregard  the  victory  he 
almost  won  to-day."  „   .,      .  . 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  Phil,  rising  as  he 
spoke.  "  I  will  try  to  do  what  you  ask.  In 
order  not  to  lose  too  much  time,  f  will  Bignal 
you  at  four  o'clock  from  the  rebel  camp." 

"Dangerous.    Don't  be  eaielesn." 

"If  I  throw  a  red,  followed  by  a  blue  light, 
wait  till  I  come.  If  a  red  alone,  then  open 
the  attack  on  the  Confederate  left  as  soon  as 

^  "  Your  idea  is  that  if  you    sliow   the  blue 
yon  have  something  I  must  know  before  the 
fight  begins  ?" 
"That's  it."  ,     , 

"  I  understand,  and  shall  watob  for  your 
signals.  Be  careful.  You  are  brave;  don  t 
try  to  go  too  far,  aud  come  to  me  when  the 
day  is  ours."' 

"  My  signals  will  show  you  that  I  think  we 
can  defeat  the  Confederates.  Have  you  con- 
fidence enough  in  me  to  take  it  for  granted 
that  lam  right?" 

"  I  bebeve  you  will  not  ask  me  to  make  too 
great  sacrifices.  Too  many  of  my  brave 
boys  have  gone  down  to-day  to  ir  ake  me 
thoughtless  of  them.  Poor  fellows !  God 
knows,  I  pity  them  and  their  dear  ones  at 
home." 

In  the  eye  of  the  strong  man  something 
like  a  tear  shone. 

He  brushed  it  silently  away.         

"Good  uight,   general,"  said    Phi  .      -At 
four  o'clock,  if  I  am  alive,  you  shall  know 
the  situation  over  yonder." 
"Good-night"  " 
And  out  intc 
trepid  youth. 

He  had  before  him  a  task  more  trying  than 
he  had  entered  upon  in  all  his  life. 

Yet  not  once  did  he  wish  his  leader  had 
left  the  duty  to  some  one  else— not  one*  did 
he  wish  it  were  over. 

Notmorelhan  two  hours  or  so  after  Phil 
Lamonte  separated  from  the  Union  general 
there  passed  along  the  road  leading  from 
Corinth  to  the  camp  of  the  Confederate 
army  a  countryman,  driving  a  sorry  speci- 
men of  a  horse  to  which  was  attached  a 
dilapidated  wagon,  the  inside  of  which  was 
full  of  boxes  and  barrelsof  variouseizes,  and 
all  were  apparently  crowded  with  such 
articles  as  potatoes,  cabbage,  poultry,  and 
other  things  of  a  like  nature.  .   ,    .  ,. 

As  the  driver  appioMched  the  picket-lme 
he  drew  up,  aud  slowly  dismounting  from 
his  seat  in  the  vehicle,  left  his  horse  stand- 
in  "•  in  the  highway  and  went  limping  toward 
the  Confederate  who  barred  his  way. 
"Halt!" 

The  tones  of  the  sentry  rung  out  clear  and 
distinct  on  the  night  air. 
"Haltyerself!"  was  t 
stranger,  as  he  kept  on  his  way  1 
exactly  in  front  of  the  Confederate  soldier, 
■•'what  do  I  want  to  hold  up  for.    I'd  like  to 

"*"Yfm  cannot  pass  this  line  to-night.  That's! 
why  I  challenge  you." 

"  No,  sir.  We  have  strict  orders.  No  one 
can  enter  camp  to-night.'' 

"Well,  you  see,  as  how  I  am  no  one,  and  so 
I  must  be  an  exception, 
ought  to  be." 


rkness  went  the 


rather 


"  What  is  your  business?" 

"Why  I've  a  load  o' truck  out  here  that 
I've  brought  up  all  the  way  from  Corinth  to 
sell  you  fellers,  stuff  to  eat,  mostly." 

"  Your  a  huckster,  then  ?"  ,        j  . 

"You've  guessed  right;  I  am.  I  used  to 
be  around  camp  before  you  moved  up, 
every  day.  An'  I  thought  may  be  you  d  be 
glad  to  see  me  after  the  big  scrimmage  to- 
dav.  Say,  stranger,  I'm  all  right.  1  ye  got 
a  pass  to  enter  the  lines.    Want  to  see  it?' 

The  countryman  fumbled  about  in  the 
breast  of  his  coat  and  fished  out  a  dirty  card 
whi'-h  he  lield  up  before  him. 


20 


THE  WA"El  LIBRARY. 


The  soldier  flashed  a  bulls-eye  upon  the 
pieiw  of  paper,  aud  muttered : 

•■  Beauiegard's  hand,  sure  enough." 

Thtii  I  liming  the  light  full  into  the  man's 
face  In-  evid  Ilim  for  several  seconds  eau- 
siou^^lv. 

••  11'.-  11  siraiigii  lime  of  uight  for  this  busi- 
ness,' li.'  Mild,  at  leugth.  "No  oue  will  deal 
with  vuu  iiiiw.  Wait  till  morning,  and  then 
I'll  see    wlielher    this    eard    is  all    light  or 


■  i  ve  goi.  lo  lie  uoiue  uy  ua^ureitii,  i 
Eei  ;  and,  lie.-idi's  all  that,  1  kniiw  tlie 
ru.ido  want  II..'  stiift-  I've  got.  Why,  ii 
there   wagon     llieie's  some  nioe  frest 


to  be  home  by  daybreak,  stran- 

boys 

in  that 
resh  leaf 
cabbage,  tiirlsevs,  :in' no  eiiil  o  vegetables. 
Now,  1  ».>iiUln'tl.«so  frte  an' easy  with 
every  man,  l)iit  1  rather  like  voii.  It's  a  faet, 
hang  me  et  laiii'l  ;  an',  :^.tin'  it's  yon,  that  is 
'twixt  }  on  an'  nie,  see  lieie  !'' 

With  th.se  words  the  farmer  pulled  out 
oue  side  of  liis  gr.at-coai,  and  displayed  a 
bottle,  which  si)arlilcd  iu  the  light  of  the  lan- 
tern. 

"That's  genuine,  ihat  is.  Tiin't  every 
man  that  can  squeeze  srch  led-eye  as  that 
onto'  ther  grain.  Have  a  drap'/ " 

He  extended  his  hand  toward  the  picket. 

But  no  arm  was  readied  ont  in  leiui  ii. 

"Now, see  here,  stranger,"  said  tin  pi.  kel. 
"yon  may  beall  right  ;  1  do;i  I  Kncv.  Hut 
you  mistake  vonr  man  when  (,.ii  uy  i,> 
bribe  me  to  let  ymi  pass   the  line.     It  lama 


There  was  a  sudden  movement  on  the  part 
of  the  eountiyinaii. 

A  blow  Bti  uek  with  laushiug  force. 

The  next  moment  the  way  was  clear,  for 
the  man's  coiniades  were  asleep  on  their 
post,  wearied  with  the  day's  battle. 

"So  belt,  then,"  muttered  the  farmer,  as 
he  leaped  at  one  bound  far  beyonil  the  pick- 
et line.  "It  was  a  hard  thing  to  do.  He  was 
an  honest  man,  but  I  must  pass  the  sen- 
tries." 

Taking  shelter  under  somelow  bushes  near 
the  road,  the  stranger  swiftly  threw  off  his 
•ountry  garb,  and  there  stood  in  his  stead  a 
man  clad  in  ('..iiledei  iite  gray. 

The  fare  w;is  that  of  I'hil  Lamonte. 

Without  hisiii- a  uioiiieiit  the  young  man 
took  his  wayii|)iiilo  tlie  heart  of  the  Con- 
federate caiii|\  thi-  sentries  allowing  him  to 
pass,  aa  be  htid  the  countersign. 

"That  part  <.f  the  matter  is  over,  at  any- 
rate,"  he  wliispered.  "  I  had  hopes  to  suc- 
ceed through  I  hat  simple  ruse;  but  I  fell  iu 
with  a  man  who  ought  to  be  on  the  other 
side.  Now  for  (he  next  step  that  will  be 
moredifliculi,  1  iiiKigine." 

Proceeiliiig  n  illiout.  niolestatiou  till  he  was 
fairly  inside.  I'hil  made  the  entire  cir- 
cuit of  the  Omfederate  camp,  sharply  not- 
ing the  position  held  by  the  various  divisions, 
and  estimating  as  nearly  as  possible  their 
probable  number. 

Some  time  was  consumed  in  this  way,  and 
the  young  man  perspired  heavily,  so  rapidly 
had  he  worked. 

"So  far,  good.  I  couldn't  ask  for  better 
suoces-s.  It  must  be  past  midnight,  aud  I 
have  yet  much  to  do.  Now  for  the  test  of 
my  skill.  If  I  fail  now  all  will  be,  indeed, 
lost." 

In  the  course  of  his  search  Phil  had  care- 
fully noted  the  spot  on  which  stood  the 
headquarters  of  General  Beauregard. 

Thither  he  now  directed  his  steps. 

Now  and  then  he  met  soldiers  who  gazed 
upon  him  suspiciously. 

They  did  not  understand  how  he  should  be 
moving  about  at  that  hour. 

But  his  calm  demeanor  aud  undisturbed 
manner  carried  him  safely  through  till  he 
reached  the  tent  of  the  Confederate  com- 
mander. 

Before  he  took  a  step  further  a  female 
figure  flitted  past  him. 

He  caught  oue  glimpse  of  her  face,  and 
darted  after  her. 

Wliat  was  Laura  Doane  doing  there';' 


CHAPTEU  XXI. 

1 

l.VBDING   THE 

.TON    IN-    1 

IS  HEX. 

Siiel 
s'.ole  a 
tiie.iM 
lento, 

A  s. 

tly  as  a  slia.l. 
■ross  the  o|.eii 
triers  of  Gen,, 
•upiedby  ('..1. 

"L'  ^■.\\'U■] 
il    l!.anl> 
1.  1  Konli 
e  sentry 

.autiful  girl 
la\  tietween 

gai  d  and  the 

eroy. 

at  the  door 

times  before  while 


He  was  silting  with  head  bowed  over  some 
papers,  apparently  deep  in  thought. 


me.  What  brings  you  into  our  camp  at  this 
hour? " 

"It  you  had  aright  to  know  probably  I 
would  tell  you.  As  it  is,  1  will  not.  I  will 
simply  say  that  the  momentary  triumph  you 
enjoy  so  thoroughly  will  be  turned  to  sor- 
row soon." 

"Girl,  are  you  mad?  Why  do  you  look 
upon  me  with  such  a  wild  gaze?  Come  and 
sit  down  by  me,  and  talk  more  rationally. 
If  you  have  coino  to  tell  me  that  you  repent 
of  your  course  toward  me " 

"I  repent!  l^olonel  Fontueroy,  you  do 
not  yet  know  me.  1  repent  of  taking  my 
heart  from  the  keeping  of  a  demon  like  you? 
I  might  better  ask  whether  your  conscience 
does  not  smite  you  for  the  past  and  its  awful 
deeds." 

The  girl's  piercing  eyes  fastened  upon  the 
colonel,  caused  him  to  quail  and  move  un- 
easily. 

''Laura,  I  wonder  it  you  believe  that  tale 
still.  Don'tyou  see  how  absurd  it  is?  How 
could  I  hold  my  present  position  and  be  the 
villtiin  I  am  iei>reseiited  ?  Tell  me  that. 
W.iiilii  1  iii,tl<.se  mvrank  instantly?  Cer- 
i:,inl\  1  would.  I  i;-ll  yon  again  this  is  all 
llie  work  of  nil  eneniv.  1  know  him.  Ar- 
thur !St.  Cliiir  IS  my  avowed  foe.  He  hates 
nie,  envies  lue.  lurks  in  every  secret  place  to 

"He  is  a'muii.  1  trust  him  fully,  'i'ou, 
not  he,  lie.  1  know  it.  Why  do  you  not 
deny  the  charges  he  makes?  A  single  word 
woiilddoit.    Yon  cannot;  you  dare  not." 

"I  will,  if  you  will  give  me  time;  that's 
all  1  ask,  but  "you  are  not  willing  to  grant  it. 
I  am  here  with  a  great  responsibility  resting 
upon  me.  The  success  of  this  campaign  lies 
almost  wholly  upon  my  shoulders.  Its  fail- 
ure means  my  ruin.  Wait  till  it  is  over, 
Laura.    Come  and  help  me." 

The  girl,  much  as  she  had  once  loved  Fout- 
neroy,  was  now  unmoved  by  his  appeal. 

Had  her  heart  been  of  stone  she  could  not 
have  listened  with  sterner  countenance,  nor 
with  eyes  flashing  more  indignantly. 

"There  was  a  day,  she  said,  when  you 
could  have  deceived  me  by  such  words  as 
these.  That  tiiue  has  gone  forever.  I  know 
you,  and  I    hate   you.  Colonel    Foutneroy, 

red 
the< 
Ht 

discomfltted  him  at  their  last  interview. 

"You  hate  me,  you  say.  So  belt;  but  be- 
fore you  scorn  me  further  you  shall  feel  my 
power.  Recollect  where  you  are— in  the 
very  heart  of  our  oamp.  Remember,  too, 
how  you  betrayed  my  confidence  when  in 
your  home  I  laid  bare  to  you  the  details  of 
the  plan  we  bad  in  view  of  attacking  Gen- 
eral Grant  here;  a  plan  we  successfully  exe- 
cuted, iu  spite  of  your  betrayal.  I  can  cause 
your  arrest  as  a  spy. 

"But  you  will  not.  You  dare  not!'  ex- 
claimed Laura,  her  cheek  mantling  as  she 
spoke.  "  I  am  indeed  in  the  Confederate 
camp,  aii'l  you  may  cause  me  to  be  appre- 
hended as  you  say  ;  but  the  moment  you  do 
so  I  will  (ell  the  story  of  your  perfidy  to- 
ward Arthur  St.  Clair,  and  your  betrayal  of 
your  trust.    Go  on,  if  you  dare." 

"You  shall  see  whether  I  dare  or  not," 
hissed  the  enraged  officer,  for  the  moment 
losing  control  of  himself. 

He  believed  that  he  had  sufficient  influence 
with  Genet al  Beauregard  to  counteract  any- 
thing Laura  might  say  against  him,  and  he 
resolved  to  put  her  beyond  reach  for  all 
time. 

He  saw  he  had  lost  his  hold  upon  her. 

She  was  now  an  enemy. 

The  colonel  stepped  toward  the  opening  to 
summon  assistance,  but  not  three  paces  had 
he  taken  when  Laura  confronted  him. 

A  drawn  stiletto  gleamed  iu  her  hand. 

"Stop!"  she  cried.  "Iain  no  longer  to  be 
trifled  with  by  you.  You  shall  know  that 
though  a  woman  I  am  yet  capableof  defend- 
ing myself  against  such  a  coward  as  you  !  I 
am  delerniiiicd.  Y<iu  shall  not  carry  out 
your  iiiteiiii.iii.  save  over  my  dead  body  !" 

For  an  instant  ( 'olouel  Fontneroy  cowered 
before  this  woman. 

He  dreaded  to  meet  the  gaze  of  her  search- 
ing eyes. 

He  knew  she  had  spoken  the  truth.  He 
was  indeed  a  craven  dastard,  and  he  was 
guilty,  as  she  charged. 

But  quickly  he  recovered. 

Who  was  this  that  stood  between  him  and 
the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose? 

A  woman  I 

WhatI    A  woman  thwart  him? 


Never ! 

He  sprung  quickly  upon  her  and  hurled 
her  quivering  back  against  the  tent  pole, 
pinioning  her  hands  in  a  grasp  of  iron. 

Thus  they  stood  face  to  face. 

Just  beside  the  Confederate  ofBoer  at  that 
moment  there  came  a  step,  and  a  clear  voice 
rung  in  his  ear. 

"Unhand  that  woman,  villain,  or  1  will 
dash  you  to  the  ground  !" 

As  if  shot  through  the  heart,  Fontneroy 
released  his  hold  and  fell  back  quivering  be- 
neath the  glance  of  the  man  who  uttered  this 
command. 

He  saw  the  manly  form  of  Phil  Lamonte. 

"Is  this  the  way  you  treat  your  guests?" 

"  She  is  no  guest.  She  is  an  enemy.  What 
right  have  you  to  interfei  e  wiih  my  wishes? 
Who  are  you,  sir.  that  you  enter  my  pres- 
ence unbidden  ?    You  picsuine  too  far.' 

"It  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  protect 
weak  woman  when  he  finds  her  in  the  hands 
of  a  man  like  you.  As  to  who  I  am,  you 
shall  know.  I  am  Phil  Lamonte,  a  scout  of 
Grant's  army." 

"  (1f  Grant's  army  !"  cried  the  Confederate, 
starting  back  in  alarm.  "  What  brings  voii 
here?" 

"You  will  kuow  to-morrow  morning.  Till 
then  I  shall  not  answer  you.  Now,  I  want 
you  to  make  amends  for  the  ungeutlemanly 
conduct  I  have  just  witnessed  on  your  part 
toward  this  young  lady.  Down  on  your 
knees  and  beg  her  forgiveness." 

"Oh!  don't  ask  him  to  do  that,  please," 
said  Laura,  with  a  gesture  of  scorn.  "1  do 
not  wisli  it.    He  is  beneath  my  notice." 

"Down!" 

The  tone  sent  the  colonel  shivering  to  his 
knees,  and  he  stammered  au  apology. 

"Now,"  continued  Phil,  severely,  "I  want 
you  to  go  a  little  further.  I  see  you  have 
pencil  and  paper.  Sit  down  there  and  pre- 
pare to  write." 

Silently  Fontneroy  obeyed,  praying  some 
one  would  chance  to  look  iu  upon  them. 

"Are  you  ready?  Then  write.  Address 
your  letter  to  General  Beauregard." 

"To  Genei'al  Beauregard!  In  Heaven's 
name,  what  is  this  you  are  compelling  me  to 
do?" 

"  You  will  know  soon  enough.  Proceed,  as 
I  dictate." 

There  was  no  way  of  escape. 

The  hand  of  Phil  held  a  revolver  which 
gleamed  ominously  in  his  eyes. 

This  is  what  he  wrote : 


EiiS,': 


"Mv  Deab  General  :-Tlie  bearer  ii 
sonal  friend  of  mine  who  has  jUBt  coi 
mond-Captain  Ernest,  byname.    He  desires  to  know 
officially  throuKll  you   what  our   success  to-day  has 
broufzht  us,  what  it  has  cost,  and  whether  you  have 

can  spealc  freely  with    him,    I  would  accompany 'him, 
but  1  am  unavoidably  detained  in  my  quai-ters.    I  pre- 

FONTXBROy." 

The  colonel  sunk  weakly  back  in  his  chair 
as  he  wrote  the  concluding  word. 

"Is  that  all?" 

"No,"  was  the  uncompromising  reply. 
"  There  is  another  sheet ;  address  it  as  you 
did  the  other." 

"  Fiend,  have  you  no  heart  ?  I  cannot  wi  ite 
further. 

"Goon!"  thundered  I'liil.  "It  must  be 
done.     Write  now  as  I  dictate." 

Then,  with  a  hand  sliaking  as  if  struck 
with  a  sudden  palsy,  the  rei.el  colonel  wrote 
out  the  story  of  the  wrong  lie  had  brought 
upon  St.  Clair,  and  his  l.asi-advumes  toward 
Laura  Doane,  aud  tiiiisheil  l.y  staling  that  he 
had  determined  to  flee  the  ii'iuntry  to  escape 
the  memory  of  his  crimes.  That  iie  had  be- 
come the  Benedict  Arnold  of  the  South,  and 
betrayed  the  Confederate  army  into  the 
hands  of  General  Grant. 

With  a  groan  the  colonel  completed  his 
terrible  task. 


utterly  without  soul?  Think  what  this 
means  to  me!  It  is  ruin— nay,  death!  lean- 
not  live  aud  face  such  a  thing  as  this!" 

"  I  only  compel  you  to  make  such  atone- 
ment as  you  know  you  should  yourself  make, 
liutwliich  never -n'onld  lieinaileof  your  own 
five  will,"  was  the  calm  v,|d\,  as  Phil  took 
the  sheet  last  writi  'ii  aiiiH..M.ii  H  .-arefully. 

"  Miss  Doane,  this  1  1.  a\  e  h  ill,  y,,u.  Keep 
itsafely.  Thisollier  ..n,-  I  ivilliise.  I  shall 
leave  you  iu  charge  of  the  colimel  for  a  short 
time  till  1  have  made  luy  call  on  the  general. 
Otherwise,  he  might  take  steps  to  defeat  my 
plans.  But  I'll  put  him  in  a  position  to  do 
you  no  further  harm." 

Speaking  thus,  Phil,  still  watching  the 
Confederate,  produced  a  stout  cord,  and 
bound  him  hand  and  foot,  yet  sitting  in  his 

"  He  is  safe  now.  Miss  Laura.    Guard  him 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


21 


raietuJly,  however,  ntid  if  lie  iitteiupfs  to 
eiy  out,  use  this." 

He  handed  the  girl  a  pistol. 

Thus  equipped,  Laura  took  her  station  in 
fruut  of  tlie  mau  who  had  descried  her. 

It  was  a  novel  situation. 

lu  a  moment  Phil  was  gone. 

Ten  minutes  afterward  he  was  at  the 
quarters  of  the  Confederate  general  deraaud- 
iug  admittance. 


Late  though  the  hmir  was,  and  flushed  as 
was  General  Beauregard  with  the  victory  he 
had  gained,  he  wu?  doiply  buried  in  work. 

Summoned  by  the  nuiiihi  rs  of  his  staff  he 
was  briskly  planiiiiii;  \o  pi .  ^^s  the  contest,  so 


could  discern  upon  h 
look  of  the  deepest  anxiety,  becoining  at  in- 
tervals even  the  expression  of  alarm. 

Not  a  single  trace  of  these  varving  indices 
ofemotiou  escaped  the  sharp  eyes  of  the 
spy.  From  them  he  was  making  up  his  esti- 
mate of  the  actual  condition  ot  thingson  the 
Ooufederate  side. 


nel  Fontneriiy's  letter,  still  keeping  his  gaze 
riveted  upon  his  countenance. 

He  saw  a  shadow  fall  over  Beauregard's 
face— a  shadow  which  deepened  till  it  be- 
came a  very  cloud. 

"  Ah !"  thought  our  hero,  "  after  all,  then, 
you  tremble!  Ay!  and  well  you  may  ;  for 
ere  the  morning  sun  lights  up  these  hills,  the 
victory  will  be  wrested  from  you." 

"Tour letter  of  introduction  entitles  you 
to  my  fullest  confidence,  sir,"  said  the  gen- 
eral, motiouing  aside  several  officers  who 
were  pressing  to  his  table.  "Fortneroy 
would  ask  nothing  unreasonable,  and  I  will 
state  the  situation  frankly.  It  is  desperate. 
Yes,  despeiate." 

He  paused  for  an  instant,  and  his  hands 
moved  restlessly  among  the  papers  before 


general,"  responded  Phil.  "  All  Richmond, 
nay,  the  entire  South,  looks  toward  you  at 
Ibis  hour,  with  intense  hope.  Upon  Shiloh 
depends  the  issue  of  this  war.  You  must 
know  it." 

"I  do  know  it.  But  what  more  can  be 
done?  If  I  had  a  few  more  men  I  could 
ciusli  Grant  forever,  and  that  would  end  tlie 
matter;  but  we  have  lost  heavily  to-day, 
liow  heavily  no  one  but  we  ourselves  know. 
If  Grant  had  but  a  suspicion  how  weak  we 
,  are  at  this  moment— but  I  fear  it  would 
make  little  difference.  While  we  have  seen 
our  forces  decimated,  and  know  full  well 
that  there  can  be  no  way  of  strengthening 
them,  he  is  being  hourly  reinforced." 

"Ah!    Evwhomf" 

"  Buell  is  here;  Wallace  also.  Thev  weie 
on  the  way  yesterday.  You  must  see  how 
dangerous  is  our  position.  Slill  I  have  hope. 
I  am  doing  all  in  my  power  to  create  the  im- 
pression that  I  am  strongei-  than  the  facts 
will  warrant.     It  is  my  only  ho|ie." 

"  Must  I  then  convey  such  tidings  as  these 
back  to  Richmond  ?  I  liad  hoped  differ- 
ently." 

"W 
oide  matters,  beyond  a  doubt. 

"  I  leave  you  to-night,"  rep 
man,  consulling  his  watch, 
should  this  moment  be  on  the  way.  Let  liie 
thank  you,  general,  for  your  kindness.  You 
have  heloed  me  wonderfully  in  obtaining 
the  true  slate  of  affairs,  which  is  hard  to  dis- 
cover afte.  a  battle.  I  must  bid  you  good- 
night." 

He  leaned  toward  Beaureganl  as  he  con- 
oluded,  and  whispered  : 

"  When  next  a  man  comes  to  you  with  a 
letter  from  Fontneroy,  take  time  to  ascer- 
tain the  facts  under  which  it  wasobtained." 

Leaving  Beauregard  lost  in  wonder  at  the 
meaning  of  these  strange  words,  Phil  darted 
out  into  the  night,  and  made  his  way  back 
toward  the  quarters  of  Fontneroy,  where  he 
had  left  Laura  Doane  keeping  her  watch 
over  the  man  she  hated. 

Time  was  flying.  It  lacked  not  more  than 
two  liours  of  the  time  for  the  appointed  sig- 
nal. 

He  must  relieve  Laura  of  her  task,  then  he 
would  prepare  to  send  the  promised  news  to 
General  Grant. 

Bounding  into  the  tent  he  looked  hurriedly 
about  him. 

The  place  was  vacant. 

No  sound  met  his  ear. 


r(mgh  theopen- 
face. 

his  horse,  and, 
though  closely  pursued,  managed  to  reach 
the  field  ot  battle  in  time  to  take  an  active 
part. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

STILL  DEEPER   INTO   DANUER. 

"  Don't  make  a  move  to  draw  your  weap- 
ons. At  your  peril  you  stir  from  your  tracks 
till  we  command  you." 

The  officer  who  spoke  these  words,  thrust 
close  up  into  the  face  of  the  Union  scout  the 
cold  muzzle  of  a  revolver. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  tone.  It  be- 
spoke no  appeal. 

"This  is,  indeed,  a  surprise,  gentlemen," 
said  Phil,  with  an  expression  of  well-feigned 
astonishment.  "Can  it  be  you  made  a  mis- 
take in  this  matter?  Certainly  it  would  seem 
so.  What  is  the  charge  against  me?  I  cannot 
conceive." 

"  Come,  now,  this  is  useless.  We  know  you. 
You  are  no  Confederate.  Your  uniform  is 
but  a  disguise.    You  are  a  Yankee  spy." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"  We  have  our  orders  from  Colonel  Fontne- 
roy himself." 

"  From  Fontneroy  ?  You  must  be  mista- 
ken. Why,  I  hold  here  a  letter  written  in 
the  colonel's  own  hand,  introducing  me  to 
General    Beauregard    himself.    See,   here  it 

He  held  the  letter  up. 

"  Let  me  read  it,"  said  the  officer.  "  Come 
up,  gentlemen,  and  listen." 

Throwing  the  light  of  a  lantern  upon  the 
letter,  the  officer  read  it  aloud. 

"  What  does  that  sound  like  to  you?  The 
words  of  a  man  who  has  no  confidence  in 
another?  I  tell  you,  you  have  made  a  mis- 
take. Why  does  not  the  colonel  come  here 
and  confront  me,  otherwise?  You  see  how 
absurd  this  thing  is.    I  am  surprised." 

"  Your  questmn  shall  be  answered,"  said  a 
voice  not  far  distant.  "I  am  here,  and 
charge  you  with  being  just  what  I  said— a 
Yankee  spy.  Men,  do  your  duty;  I  com- 
mandit!" 


Taking  advantage  of  the  moment,  Phil 
struck  the  lantern  from  the  hands  of  the 
Confederate,  plunging  theplace  in  darkness. 
Then  springing  to  the  rear  of  the  tent,  quick 
as  lightning  he  cleft  the  heavy  canvas  with 
his  knife  from  top  to  bottom,  and  disap- 
peared through  the  rent  thus  made. 

A  yell  of  rage  run  around  the  mob  of 
cheated  soldiers. 

In  their  eagerness  to  hear  the  information 
which  the  letter,  ostensibly  written  by  Colo- 
nel Fontneroy  conveyed,  they  had  left  the 
tent  unguarded,  save  in  the  very  front. 

"After  him!"  yelled  Colonel  Fontneroy, 
madly.  "  He  must  not  slip  through  our  fin- 
gers now.  Shoot  him,  if  you  must,  but  stop 
his  flight." 

Thus  inspired,  the  crowd  gave  chase— some 
on  foot,  some  on  horse,  all  shouting,  howl- 
ing, cursing. 

As  if  wings  had  been  lent  him,  our  hero 
leaped  overthe  ground,  bending  his  steps  to- 
"'  ■  ping 

.'on- 
federate  camp  and  through  the  heavy  forest. 

Soon  he  knew  by  the  crashing  of  bushes  in 
the  rear  that  the  Confederates  had  entered 
the  forest;  and  he  again  nerved  himself  for 
the  contest. 

So  tangled  weie  the  low  thickets, however, 
that  his  flight  was  seriously  impeded,  and  he 
knew  by  the  sounds  which  came,  borne  on 
the  air  from  behind,  that  he  was  rapidly  De- 
ing  overtaken. 

"  I'll  make  an  effort  to  throw  them  off  the 
track  f  I U'  a  slunr  time,  at  least,"  muttered 
Pliil,  reaching  up  aiidgrasniug  the  branches 
of  a  thick  tree,  under  which    he  was  at  that 

Drawing  himself  <|uii-kly  up,  he  ascended 
high  into  the  top  of  the  "cypress,  and  with 
pistols  in    hand,  waited    the  coming  ot  the 

Not  an  instant  too  soon  had  he  resolved 
upon  this  action,  for  the  Confederates  came 
tearing  down  through  thethickets,  and  went 
rushing  past. 

"The  whole  Confederate  army  seems  to  be 
out  after  me,"  smiled  the  young  man,  as  he 
stealthily  lowered  himself  to  the  ground. 
"Well,  they'll  have  something  to  do  before 
they  catch  me.    I'm  sure  of  that." 


So  silently  did  Phil  move  that  no  one,  ten 
feet  away,  would  have  dreamed  what  was 
going  on  in  tlie  branches  of  Iho  cypress. 

As  sounas  he  was  on  the  ground,  ttie  scout, 
halting  for  a  brief  period  to  take  his  bear- 
ings, hasleued  away,  taking  a  course  about 
at  right  angles  from  that  which  his  pursuers 
were  following. 

"They  will  soon  l)e  doubling  on  the  trail, 
for  the  edge  of  the  forest  in  that  direction 
lies  not  far  ahead,"  thought  Phil.  "What  1 
do,  must  be  done  quickly." 

In  this  our  hero  was  fully  right. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  rebels,  reaebine 
the  clearing  which  lay  beyond  the  road,  and 
not  finding  the  object  of  their  search,  turned 
back  and  began  a  systematic  hunt,  leaving 
no  spot  or  corner  unexplored. 

They  had  sprei.,1  out  also,  so  that  Phil  re- 
alized with  considerable  anxiety  that  they 
were  likely  to  cut  off  his  retreat  even  now. 

He  could  not  play  the  ruse  which  bad  «uc- 
ceeded  so  well  a  few  minutes  before. 

These  thoughts  now  awoke  in  the  breastof 
the  daring  scout  no  little  apprehension  lest 
he  should  not  reach  the  open  spaoe  by  tha 
river  in  time  to  send  up  the  signal  to  the 
Union  general. 

Wondering  thus,  he  sought  in  his  poekets 
for  a  match,  and   lighting  it,   looked  at  hi» 

Half-past  three. 
Only  thirty  minutes  left. 
Hastily  e.xtiugnisliing  the  match,  he  pre- 
pared to  advance  once  more. 

The  light  had  .scarcely  ceased  to  flicker 
when  a  voice  so  near  to  him  that  he  started 
back  in  surprise,  said : 

"Thank  you  for  that  illumination,  my 
dear  sir,"  said  the  voice.  "Now,  just  stand 
where  you  are.  Don't  move.  I  am  covering 
you  with  a  weapon  that  has  never  failed 
me." 

Without  a  word  in  reply,  the  scout 
crouched  low  in  his  tracks,  and  waited. 

From  the  sound  made  by  this  unseen  foe 
he  knew  that  he  was  mounted. 

He  could  hear  tlie  steady  tiarap  coming 
through  the  darkness. 

Suddenly,  with  tlie  bound  of  a  tiger,  Phil 
sprung  upon  the  horse  which  the  Confeder- 
ate rode,  and  seizing  his  hands,  fastened 
them  to  his  sides. 

Alarmed  by  this  unexpected  act,  the  sol- 
dier uttered  a  wild  cry,  which  rung  through 
the  forest. 

Knocking  his  weapon  from  his  hand,  the 
scout  snatched  the  sword  which  he  saw 
hanging  at  the  belt  of  his  antagonist,  and 
hurling  him,  stunned  and  breathless,  to  the 
ground,  dashed  away  from  the  place. 

It  was  a  bold  move,  yet  so  far,  it  had 
proved  a  safe  one. 

He  now  had  an  advantage  which  led  him 
to  hope  for  the  speedy  accomplishment  of 
his  plans. 

Toward  the  Tennessee  he  guided  the  cap- 
tured horse. 

But  the  forest  seemed  alive  with  his  ane- 
mies. 

His  face  wore  the  look  of  a  man  who  un- 
derstands that  he  confronts  death,  but  who 
has  determined  to  meet  it,  if  need  be,  with- 
out flinching. 

A  few  seconds  longer  auil  he  knew  by  the 
shout  which  went  up  that  he  had  been  dis- 
co vei'ed. 

"Halt!" 

The  tones  were  those  of  Colonel  Fortneroy. 

Instead  of  obeying  the  command,  the  in- 
trepid scout  lashed  his  steed  furiously,  and 
plunged  madly  against  the  sea  of  death. 

Right  and  left  he  struck  with  his  saber, 
and  wherever  the  blows  descended,  the 
yells  which  followed  told  what  execution  he 
had  done. 

Crack!  crack!  rung  out  his  revolrer  at 
intervals,  and  he  saw  the  body  of  soldiers 
melt  away  like  dew  under  the  sun  of  a  sum- 
mer day. 

A  few  feet  further. 

On,  brave  youth  ! 

Strike  again,  and  once  again ! 

At  last,  thank  fortune,  the  line  was  pierced, 
the  knot  cut,  and  our  hero  stood  clear  on  the 
outside. 

But,  hark! 

^-  perfect  rain  of  leaden  messengers  sung 
through  the  leaves. 

Was  he  safe  yet? 

Not  a  thread  of  his  garments  had  been 
cut. 

And  now,  forward  to  the  river. 

"Away!  brave  steed,  away!"  shouted 
Phil.  "God  bless  you,  my  noble  horse,  lor 
bringing  me  through  that  fearful  struagle  I  I 
never  will  part  with  you  till  death.  On,  on, 
faster,  on  !" 

As  if  fully  understanding  the  words  o£ 
jiraise  which   its  new-found  master  spoke. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


the  strong  beast,  nerved  to  the  utmost,  cleft 
the  darkness,  and  iu  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
earned  him  beyond  the  verge  of  the  forest. 

Ouce  more  the  scout  pulled  out  his  watch, 
pantiug  heavily. 

Pour  o'clock ! 

The  hour  had  come. 

Upon  the  grass  beside  the  rolling  Tennes- 
see the  scout  kneels  and  draws  from  his 
bosom  the  rocket  he  has  carried  through  the 
scenes  of  this  venturesome  night. 

He  scratches  a  match  on  a  stone  beside 
hira. 

The  scout  hovers  the  spark,  and  trembling- 
ly holds  it  to  the  fuse  of  the  rocket. 

It  hisses. 

Then  holding  it  high  in  air  he  sends  it  far 
above  the  hill-tops. 

It  is  done. 

The  red  stars  flashes  like  a  meteor,  and 
bears  its  tidings  to  the  Union  general  waiting 
outside. 

not  yet  died  out 
f  acannou  wakes 
the  far-oft  silence. 

General  Grant  has  seen  the  signal.  He 
know  its  meaning. 

Again  the  crimson  tide  of  battle  will  roll 
down  upon  Pittsburg  Landing. 

When  it  recedes  it  will  leave  the  turf  wet 
with  the  blood  of  freemen,  but  the  war  of  the 
rebellion  will  be  decided. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A    WOMAN'S   DEVOTION. 

A  step  or  two  backward. 

Laura  Doane,  keeping  her  vigil  by  the  side 
of  the  Confederate  colonel,  anxiously  noted 
the  flight  of  time,  and  momentarily  longed 
for  the  return  of  Phil. 

It  was  a  trying  position  in  which  to  place  a 
girl  of  her  passionate  nature. 

The  colonel  for  some  time  remained  silent, 
regarding  the  girl,  and  inwardly  chafing  at 
bis  imprisonment. 

But  at  length  he  broke  out  into  a  thrilling 
appeal. 

"  Laura,"  he  began,  "I  did  not  think  you 
so  heartless  as  this;  iudeed,  it  seems  tome 
I  your  real  character,  your  own  heart  is  not 
1  leading  you  on  iu  this  matter.  It  cannot  be 
■  that  you  actually  hate  me,  as  your  actions 
'  indicate.  Some  one  is  urging  you  on  to  in- 
jure me." 

The  girl  remained  quietly  looking  into  his 
face  for  a  time.    Then  she  replied  : 

"  Then  you  think  me  dead  to  all  true  wom- 
anly emotion,  do  you?  That  I  can  listen  to 
the  tale  of  the  wrong  you  have  done  one  of 
my  sister  women,  and  still  remain  constant 
in  my  devotion  to  you  ?  If  you  do,  then  you 
have  not  yet  learned  the  nature  of  Laura 
Doane." 

"  But,  Laura,  must  1  again  tell  you  that 
this  is  not  true— that  it  is  but  the  evil  tale 
of  an  enemy  ?  I  am  not  guilty  as  you  seem 
to  believe.  Why  cannot  you  take  my  word 
instead  of  that  of  a  stranger  ?" 

"  Colonel  Fontneroy,  there  are  seme 
things  a  woman  needs  not  to  be  told.  I  did 
love  you  once,  deeply,  fondly;  but  my  affec- 
tion brought  me  no  peace  of  mind.  Even 
there  rose  up  between  us  a  barrier.  What 
that  unseen  thing  was  I  could  not  tell.  I 
know  now ;  I  have  known  it  ever  since  1 
learned  the  story  of  your  infamy  to  Arthur 
St.  Clair  and  his  innocent  wife.    As  plainly 


plish  your  base  designs.    You  have  never  ut- 
tered one  word  in  denial— you  cannot!" 
"  I  can— I  will.    Hear  me " 


The  colonel  turned  his  face  away. 

"  Laura,  I  tell  you  truly  I  do  love  you  bet- 
ter than  any  other  one  iu  all  the  world— better 
than  I  ever  can  love  anyone  else.  You  see 
me  now  in  weakness,  and  hear  my  honest 
avowal.  Believe  me  when  1  speak,  and  tell 
me  if  you  cannot  accept  my  affection." 

The  beautiful  girl's  face  became  whiter 
than  the  driven  snow. 

Again  she  was  being  put  to  the  test. 

Would  she  yield? 

"  I  cannot." 

"Speak  not  thus,  Laura.  More  depends 
upon  your  answer  than  you  think.  Yield,  I 
pray  you!" 

"It  is  impossible." 

Something  like  a  groan  escaped  Colonel 
Fontneroy. 

Silence  ensued. 

"  I  have  only  one  request  further  to  make, 
Laura.  I  am  burning  with  fever.  My  thirst 
seems  intolerable.  At  the  foot  of  the  bank 
not  twenty  rods  from  here  there  is  a  clear 
spring.  If  I  had  some  of  its  water— do  you 
think  you  would  dare  to  go  ?" 


Laura  gazed  keenly  upon  the  colonel. 
Was  it  iudeed  true  that  he  was  ill  ?  His  face 
did  seem  flushed. 

Now  that  he  might  be  suffering,  the  old 
fond  affection  came  rushing  back. 

Narrowly  did  the  colonel  watch  the  effects 
of  his  words  upon  the  girl.  Would  she  grant 
his  request? 

"  I  will  try  to  Bud  the  spring,"  was  her  an- 
swer. "  Can  you  tell  me  where  to  get  a 
pitcher?" 

"  Lift  the  cover  of  that  box  yonder.  There, 
do  you  see  it?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Laura,  as  she  took  the 
pitcher  and  started  for  the  water. 

Her  footsteps  had  not  died  away  in  the 
distance  when  Fontneroy  threw  himself  to  a 
sitting  posture,  and  miinagiTi'4  to  crawl  to 
the  door  of  his  tent,  called  loud  enough  to 
reach  the  ear  of  a  sentinel  pacing  a  short 
distance  away. 

"  Help  !  help !     Come  here  quickly !" 

At  the  sound  of  this  appeal  the  soldier 
sprung  to  Fontneroy's  side. 

"  Sever  these  cords,  will  you  ?  Curse  them, 
how  they  have  cut  into  my  flesh.  Ha!  ha! 
I'll  cheat  you  yet,  my  fair  she-devil!" 

The  cords  were  severed  speedily  and  the 
Confederate  rose  with  a  bound. 

"Now,  see  here,"  he  continued;  "I  can 
trust  you,  I  think.  I  want  a  little  help.  You 
saw  Laura  Doane  leave  this  tent  a  moment 
ago?" 

"  I  saw  a  woman." 

"  When  she  returns,  she  must  be  captured. 
Do   you  understand?    I  am   willing  to  pay 

He 
dier. 


her.' 

"Your  word  is  my  law,  colonel,"  was  the 
response,  and  the  two  men  secreted  them- 
selves and  wait^ 

It  was  but  a  minute  before  the  girl's  form 
appeared,  approaching  quickly. 

She  had  alloweOi  her  sympathy  to  supplant 
her  better  .iudgemeut  for  the  time  being,  and 
was  now  eager  to  serve  the  man  she  pitied. 

As  she  neared  the  spot,  a  hand  was  thrown 
over  her  mouth,  completely  smothering  her 
voice,  and  the  ue.\t  instant  she  felt  a  grasp 
of  iron  on  her  wrists. 

"  Now,  my  pretty  fiend,  we  will  see  who 
is  master  of  the  situation,"  laughed  Fontne- 
roy. "  It  was  a  clever  ruse,  was  it  not?  I 
couldn't  play  it  again,  doubtless.  But  now 
we  will  go.  Perhaps,  after  all,  you  may  be 
induced  to  change  your  mind  and  accept  me 
at  last." 

Again  he  laughed  sardonically. 

"  Bring  her  along,  will  you  ?  I'll  be  re- 
sponsible to  the  officers  of  the  guard.  I  think 
I  know  of  a  quiet  place  where  she  can  reflect 
for  awhile.  She  may  change  her  mind  re- 
garding her  suitor  by  and  by." 

Hereupon  the  colonel  turned  upon  his  heel 
and  walked  away,  closely  followed  by  the 
soldier  conducting  Laura,  who  made  no  at- 
tempt to  escape,  but  submitted,  with  flash- 
ing eyes,  to  the  insults  applied  to  her. 

A  little  way  outside  the  camp  there  stood 
an  ancient  farmhouse,  now  deserted  and 
cold. 

Toward  this  Fontneroy  took  his  way  with 
his  prisoner. 

Leading  her  to  the  rear  of  the  building,  the 


found  a  secure  room  high  from  the  ground, 
and  cheerless  enough. 

Into  this  they  thrust  the  proud  girl,  and 
left  her  still  bound  as  they  had  brought  her 
thither. 

She  heard  the  key  grate  dismally  in  the 
rusty  lock,  and  listened  to  their  footsteps, 
becoming  fainter  and  fainter  as  they  hurried 
away. 

When  all  was  still,  Laura  tried  to  discover 
some  place  of  escape. 

The  attempt  was  useless. 

Could  she  have  discovered  a  way  out,  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  her  to  have 
made  it  available,  pinioned  as  she  was. 

Night  wore  slowly  away  and  found  her 
restlessly  pacing  up  and  down  the  limits  of 
her  prison. 

A  stern  look  had  gradually  settled  down 
upon  her  face. 

She  had  slain  the  last  vestige  of  her  affec- 
tion for  Fontneroy.  He  had  proved  un- 
worthy of  even  her  pity.  And  when  pity 
ceases  to  move  a  woman,  the  last  avenues  to 
her  heart  has  been  closed. 

Lost  in  thought,  Laura  scarcely  was  con- 
scious of  a  noise  at  the  single  window  of  the 
room,  and  it  was  only  when  the  figure  of  a 
man  raised  itself  above  the  sill  that  she 
started  from  her  reverie. 


"Laura." 

Surely  she  knew  that  voice. 

Quickly  she  ran  to  the  window. 

There  outlined  against  the  glass  she  saw 
St.  Clair. 

"Mr.  St.  Clair!  Thau  Heaven  for  your 
timely  appearance." 

With  one  quick  movement  the  strange 
man,  still  in  disguise,  shattered  sash  and 
pane,  and  stood  beside  the  girl. 

"  Tell  me  you  are  unhurt." 

"  I  am." 

•'  My  heart  rejoices  to  hear  it.  I  feared  it 
might  not  be  so." 

"  I  cannot  understand  how  you  happened 
to  find  lue." 

"  I  have  searched  for  you,  Laura.  All  this 
night  long  I  have  earnestly  sought  you." 

"  And  Molly— know  you  aught  of  her?  " 

"She  waits  a  short  distance  outside.  Poor 
girl,  she  is  almost  beside  herself  with  distress 
and  apprehension  tor  you." 

"  Dear  girl.    I  long  to  see  her  once  more." 

"  Come,  then.  But  first,  Laura,  forgive  me 
for  addressing  you  thus.  I  cannot  go  from 
here  without  knowing  whether  I  may  not  at 
least  call  you  friend.  1  am  unworthy;  I 
know  it.  I  have  been  a  lonely  man.  but  I 
cannot  deceive  myself.  You  are  very  dear 
to  me.  When  this  war  is  over,  may  I  not 
come  to  you  with  hope  that  you  will  receive 
me  kindly?  lam  not  handsome.  You  your- 
self see  it.  I  am  rough,  but  my  heart  is  ten- 
der." 

"  Wait,"  said  Laura,  gently,  "  till  the  time 
you  mention  is  here,  then  come  to  me  with 
your  question." 

"That  is  all  I  ask,"  said  St.  Clair. 

Then,  lifting  the  girl  in  his  arms,  the  strong 
man  stepped  out  of  the  window,  and  let  him- 
self down  to  the  ground  by  means  of  an  old 
ivy  vine  which  clambered  up  the  side  of  the 
houses. 

We  pass  the  scene  of  the  meeting  with 
Molly,  and  hasten  to  the  stirring  events  tak- 
ing place  elsewhere. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

IN  THE  MOHNIN(i  TWILIGHT. 

With  countenance  unmoved  by  the  volca- 
no over  whose  crater  he  was  treading,  the 
Union  general  stood  almost  alone  in  the  gray 
light  of  that  eventful  morning,  watching  for 
the  signal  from  Phil  Lamonte. 

Not'for  an  instant  did  he  remove  his  keen 
eyes  from  the  place  where  he  knew  the 
(Jonfederates  lay,  unsuspicious  of  his  inten- 
tions. 

General  Buell  had  now  arrived,  and  his 
forces  had  marched  to  the  position  assigned 
them. 

The  deceived  Wallace  had  also  discovered 
his  grevious  mistake,  and  hastening  on  the 
double-quick,  his  division  had  been  honored 
with  the  privilege  of  opening  the  contest  on 
the  extreme  Confederate  left,  in  case  the 
Union  scout's  signal  was  favorable. 

It  was  already  understood  by  Wallace  that 
no  sooner  should  the  rocket  be  seen  than  he 
should  command  his  guns  to  speak. 

Pacing  to  and  fro  under  a  wide-branched 
tree,  with  his  coat  buttoned  close  up  te  his 
throat,  the  gener.al  soliloquized  ; 

"  It  is  placing  a  good  deal  of  confidence  in 
that  young  scout.  But  I  don't  think  he  will 
deceive  me.  Faces  are  the  indices  of  charac- 
ter. In  his  I  read  sterling  integrity.  If  this 
thing  turns  out  all  right,  he  shall  not  be  the 
loser  for  the  work  he  is  now  doing.  Let's 
see.  What  is  the  hour?  Four  o'clock  this 
minute.    Now  for  the  signal." 

If  possible,  the  general  gazed  more  sharply 
than  ever  before  in  the  quarter  he  bad  been 
watching  so  closely  for  the  last  half-hour. 

"Ha!  thereitis!  Lamonte  is  prompt,  at 
least.    Now  what  color  does  he  show  ?" 

As  the  meteor-like  thing  shot  higher  and 
higher.  General  Grant  intently  looked  for 
the  color. 

"Victory  is  mine;!"  he  exclaimed.  "It  is 
a  red  alone.    Now,  Wallace,  to  the  work !" 

Mounting  his  horse,  the  general  dashed  to 
the  front. 

A  moment  later  the  thunder  of  cannon  on 
the  left  woke  the  morning  echoes. 

Here,  in  person,  Beauregard  was  in  com- 
mand. 

He  could  not  trust  his  most  careful  general 
to  ^uide  his  forces  there  against  the  heroio 
Unionists. 

What  a  day  that  was! 

Has  American  history  auother  like  it? 

It  was  a  struggle  not  simply  for  the  old 
field  held  by  Grant.  It  was  lite  or  death  for 
the  leaders  who  were  directing  the  fight. 

Each  knew  it,  ami  each  was  determined 
not  to  yield.  And  their  men  seemed  to  en- 
ter as  fully  into  the  spirit  of  the  battle  as 
their  commanders. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


Like  tigers  they  fought. 
From  the  left  where  theoontest  was  open- 
id,  the  battle  exteiuit-d  further  and  further 
Uoiig  the  line  till  at  last  it  became  general. 

One  continuous  roar  of  artillery  mingled 
with  the  rattle  of  musketry  and  the  hoarse 
cries  of  the  contesting  forces  rent  the  air. 

Here  is  a  line  which  the  Confederates  re- 
solve to  hold  in  spite  of  everything. 

They  gallantly  withstand  charge  after 
charge,  and  the  Unionists  recoil,  leaving 
hundred  of  brave  boys  who  never  will  meet 
the  shock  of  war  again. 

Gallantly  the  Uuimiists  come  up  again  to 
the  red-hot  mouths  of  those  guns.  Gallantly 
they  parry  the  deadly  blows  of  saber  and 
bayonet. 

Strengthened  by  fresh  forces  they  press 
,)loser  up  to  the  guns,  their  faces  ashy  white, 
Iheir  teeth  set  for  victory  or  death. 

See! 

Now  the  Confederate  line  wavers. 

It  rallies! 

Wavers  again ! 

Then  come  shouts  of  dismay,  commingled 
with  commands,  lla^^ll  and  confused,  as  of- 
ficers rush  up  and  down  striving  to  bring  to- 
gether the  shattered  column. 

It  is  too  late. 

Catching  the  little  vantage  ground  they 
have  gained,  the  boys  in  blue  push  doggedly 
onward. 

Cheers  rise  above  the  noise  and  din  of  the 
combat. 

Every  man  has  become  a  hero. 

Now  hand  to  hand  and  foot  to  foot  the 
struggle  goes  on. 

Once  more  the  Confederate  line  is  broken. 

In  spite  of  command  or  entreaty  the  rebels 
begin  to  fall  back. 

The  day  is  won. 

Oh !  the  scenes  that  then  followed. 

Can  ever  man  forget  them  ? 

Lost  to  the  Confederates  was  everything. 

In  vain  they  strove  to  regain  their  lost 
vantage  ground. 

It  was  Shiloh! 

Through  a  blinding  storm  of  sleet  and  chill- 
ing rain  they  fled  toward  the  heights  of  Mon- 
terey, fixing  their  course  in  the  direction  of 
Corinth. 

During  that  retreat,  a  distance  of  nine 
miles  only,  three  thousand  Confederate  sol- 
diers died. 

Their  entire  loss  was  more  than  ten  thou- 
sand. 


In  their  retreat  Breckenridge  covered  them 
ivith  a  force  of  twelve  thousand  men. 

Not  five  times  ten  thousand  could  then 
have  saved  the  day  to  them. 

It  was  irretrievably  lost. 

But  the  victory  was  dearly  bought  to  the 
^  Unionists. 

Fifteen  thousand  of  the  Union  troops  had 
been  killed,  wounded  or  made  prisoners. 

But  the  bloody  traces  soon  vanished.  The 
slain  left  on  the  field  of  battle  were  buried  ; 
not  a  dead  horse  was  left  uuburied.  The  ves- 
sels sent  down  the  Tennessee  bore  hundreds 
of  the  wounded  and  sick  boys  in  blue. 


lu  the  midst  of  that  awful  combat  two 
men  could  be  seen  everywhere. 

They  were  Phil  Lamonte,  and  Arthur  St. 
Clair  who  had  both  returned  in  time  to  take 
part  in  the  b.  ttle. 

As  it  borne  to  command,  they  flew  hither 
and  thither,  reorganizing  the  shattered  ranks 
of  Union  troops. 

Once  when  the  line  of  blue  wavered  and 
seemed  about  to  give  way,  Phil  dashed  to  the 
very  f  rout,  his  head  bared  to  the  air,  and  his 
hair  flying  wildly  in  the  wind,  and  thrusting 
himself  upon  the  Confederates,  cried : 

"  Hold— hold,  for  your  lives!  One  more 
charge!  It  will  win  the  field  for  us!  Steady, 
on  the  left!  Hurrah !  the  enemy  trembles. 
A  step  forward  now !  They  yield !  They 
fly!    The  day  is  ours!" 

And  he  spoke  the  truth. 

Lookiug  into  the  face  of  such  a  hero  what 
band  of  men  could  stand  / 

In  time  to  witness  the  young  man's  daring 
(ind  to  hear  his  words  of  encouragement, 
eeneral  Grant  rode  up. 

Intently  he  watched  him  for  some  time  till 
»he  serried  ranks  of  the  Confederates  gave 
way.  Then,  muttering  to  himself,  he  sum- 
moned him. 

"  That  man  is  the  lion  of  this  battle.  But 
for  him  I  believe  it  might  have  been  doubt- 
ful whether  we  could  have  carried  the 
field." 

Shortly  the  scout  came  galloping  up. 

"You  sent  for  me,  general,'   he  said. 

"Yes." 
•Your  wish!" 


"  I  want  to  thank  you  personally.  More 
than  a  little  is  owing  to  your  bravery." 

"Well?" 

"  You  shall  be  a  colonel  from  this  day  on." 

"  A  colonel !  1  a  colonel  'i  General,  I  am 
not  worthy  the  honor.    Indeed " 

"  I  know  best  about  that." 

"  There  are  tliousands  of  boys  out  yonder 
who  are  braver  and  truer  than  I." 

"  You  are  modest.    I  appreciate  it." 

"  I  must  speak  further,  then.  I  am  no 
Yankee.  I  was  born  on  the  other  side.  In 
the  village  just  below,  of  Southern  parents, 
I  had  ujy  birth." 

"That  lilies  not  detract  from  your  mer- 
its, I  hflirv.-.  Please  object  no  further. 
It  is  M-til.d  \\  illi  \nr.  c  '.iiii't'  and  see  me  next 
wei'k.     Yom  c.ii]  uiissi.iii  will  be  ready." 

It  was  piaiii  t"  be  still  that  Phil  was  made 
more  pi-.'iiii  than  hf  would  have  been  will- 
ing to  c.inless  liv  this  lidiiiir  which  General 
Grant  hail  Ijestnwed  upon  liuu. 

It  meant  much  to  him  that  this  skillful 
commander  should  have  watched  his  coarse 
during  that  rain  of  shot  and  shell,  and 
marked  him  as  one  deserving  of  advance- 
ment. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you,  general,  that  I  am 
grateful  for  this  sign  of  confidence  from  you. 
I  shall  try  to  merit  it." 

Saluting  the  general  with  these  words,  the 
young  man  was  about  to  ride  away,  when 
Grant  called  out : 

"  Stay !  Who  was  that  brilliant  soldier  I 
saw  with  you  to-day  ?  A  man,  rough  in  ex- 
terior, but  bold  as  Cfesar." 

"  His  name  is  St.  Clair,  general." 

"  When  you  come  to  me  next  week  briug 
him  with  you." 

"  Gladly  will  I  do  so.  I  know  he  is  more 
fitted  to  command  than  I." 

Separating  from  his  superior  officer,  Phil 
hastened  toward  a  point  elevated  above  the 
field  of  battle,  where,  in  a  safe  position,  Mol- 
ly Grame  and  her  cousin  had  watched  with 
breathless  interest  the  scenes  below. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

LAST   WORK   OF  THE   AVENGEK. 

Under  the  branches  of  a  murmuring  pine  a 
short  distance  from  the  scenes  of  the  trag- 
edy where  the  sun  of  that  April  day  crept 
down  to  rest  over  the  western  hills,  there  lay 
a  man  whose  uniform  indicated  rank  in  the 
Confederate  army. 

He  was  wounded— wounded  to  the  death. 


could  catch,  now  and  then,  a  word  he 
uttered. 

Listen. 

"This  is  what  it  comes  to,  then.  Death 
alone,  unwept,  unknown !  Ah !  Laura 
Doane,  your  prophecy  has  been  fulfilled. 
Evil  has  overtaken  me.    I  am  near  the  end." 

Then  there  was  silence,  as  the  soldier  re- 
mained gazing  up  into  the  dull  sky,  his  gaze 
appearing  to  pierce  the  thin  veil  which  hung 
between  him  and  eternity. 

"I  am  dying  of  thirst!"  he  whispered, 
hoarsely.  "  If  Laura  were  only  here  now,  I 
would  not  deceive  her,  but  wait  for  the  wa- 
ter she  brought." 

Just  then  a  footfall  aroused  him,  and  start- 
ing up,  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  face  of  Arthur 
St.  Clair. 

"You  here  ?  Come  to  taunt  me  when  lam 
defenceless,  I  suppose.  Go  on !  I  don't  want 
to  see  you." 

The  colonel  turned  his  face  away  from 
those  eyes  which  seemed  piercing  deep  into 
his  soul. 

"  Wretched  man,"  was  the  reply,  "  you 
mistake.  I  shall  not  make  your  sufferings 
any  harder  to  bear  than  they  naturally 
would  be." 

"  You  come  to  pity  me,  then  !" 

"No,  Pontneroy,  I  want  to  do  auything  I 
can  to  make  you  easy.  For  you  are  going 
out." 

"  I  know  it— who  better?  But  I  can't  bear 
it.  You  are  kind  to  me ;  you,  of  all  men.  It 
cuts  me  to  the  quick." 

"  I  heard  you  cry  for  water.  Here  is  my 
canteen.  I  just  filled  it  at  a  spring  below. 
Drink  deeply." 

The  wounded  man  grasped  the  canteen, 
and  held  it  long  to  his  lips. 

When  it  fell  from  his  fingers,  he  turned  to- 
ward the  man  who  had  thus  striven  to 
lengthen  out  his  life,  and  said,  in  a  stronger 
voice: 

"  Take  off  that  disguise,  will  you  ?  I  want 
to  see  what  you  are  like  now." 

Without  a  word  St.  Clair  reached  up  and 
removed  his  false  hair  and  beard. 

The  face  which  was  thus  revealed  was 
handsome,  despite  the  lines  of  sorrow  writ- 
ten there. 


For  several  minutes  the  dying  Confederate 
regarded  him  in  silence. 

"  I  have  been  a  demon  to  you.  " 

There  was  no  response. 

"  It  is  not  strange  that  you  hateiue.  When 
I  first  knew  you,  you  were  happy.  Y"es,  and 
so  was  she.    I  changed  it  all." 

"  Let  us  talk  of  other  things, 

"Not  yet.     I  must  go   on. 
one  last  favor  of  you." 

"  You  have  but  to  name  it." 

The  Unionist  drew  off  his  heavy  coat,  and 
making  it  into  a  pillow,  placed  Foutueroy's 
head  upon  it. 

"  Thank  you ;  that  is  much  easier.  Before 
I  ask  your  kiuduess  further  tell  me  if  you 
know  by  whose  1        


want  to  ask 


1  received  this  shot  ?" 


Do  1 

'Itiioughl 


time  ago  was.  I  aui  ashauieil  to  say  it,  Fout- 
neroy,  I  cannot  deny  that  my  lite  fur  some 
time  past  has beendarkened  by  theuM  ilaj's. 
If  you  have  much  to  repent  of,  so  have  I.  I 
have  watched  you  all  day,  Fontneroy.  Twice 
my  weapon  was  leveled  upon  you.  1  thought 
I  would  take  into  my  own  hands  the  e.vecu- 
tionof  the  law  which  belongs  to  one  higher 
in  command  than  any  man  can  ever  be. 
There  came  before  my  eyes  the  tearful  face 
and  pleading  looks  of  one  we  both  know,  and 
I  could  not  send  thebuUet.  To-night  I  came 
here  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me.  Will  you — 
can  you?" 
"I  forgive  you!  Oh  !  this  is  the  keenest 
■    "'    I,  who  have  drop 


St  of  all. 


opped 
al  an< 


into  your 


than  that  of  any  man  I  ever  knew,  the  stone 
which  turned  itsfountain  into  gall  and  made 
it  seethe  like  a  raging  whirpool,  I  forgive 
you.    St.  Clair,  why  this  cruel  satire  ?" 

"  I  swear  that  I  speak  naught  but  my  hon- 
est wish.  I  mean  all  I  have  asked.  The  fire 
which  raged  in  my  heart  has  burned  out  and 
left  it  all  the  freer  from  dross." 

The  dying  Confederate  closed  his  eyes  for 
a  moment,  and  no  word  passed  his  lips. 

"I  shall  know  that  you  are  sincere  if  you 
grant  the  request  I  ask,"  he  said,  at  length. 

"Speak  on." 

"  I  cannot  undo  the  past.  1  have  done  you 
a  wrong  which  nomau  has  power  to  remedy. 
My  own  life  has  been  made  black  by  it.  I 
became  a  very  demon  after  I  had  broken  up 
your  home.  It  may  be  that  in  the  time  to 
come  what  I  am  about  to  do  will  not  make 
the  stain  upon  the  page  of  my  soul's  hislory 
any  the  blacker.  There  is  only  one  thing  1 
can  do.    Have  you  pencil  and  paper  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Take  them  and  write.  A  lew  hours  ago 
Lamonte  compelled  me  to  do  the  same  at  his 
dictation.  I  shall  not  force  you  now  ;  it  is 
beyond  my  power,  nor  would  I  if  I  could." 

"  It  was  a  dangerous  thing  to  do  ;  yet  in 
the  light  of  to-day's  conflict,  looking  from 
my  standpoint,  it  was  justifiable." 

"Perhaps." 

The  Unionist  produced  writiug  material, 
and  kneeling  beside  the  officer,  whose 
strength  seemed  now  going  fast,  prepared  to 
write  the  last  wishes  of  Fontneroy. 

With  sinking  breath  and  hurriedly  the 
colonel  proceeded  to  state  that,  inasmuch  as 
he  had  committed  a  great  crime  against  Ar- 
thur St.  Clair,  and  knowing  that  the  death 
'    were  hovering  over  him,  he  did,  by 


queathing  to  him  all  his  lands,  goods  and 
chattels,  now  situated  in  Atherton  High- 
lands, Tennessee,  believing  that  to  be  the 
fullest  reparation  he  could  make  for  the 
deed  he  had  committed. 

This  done  the  Confederate  colonel  reached 
up  a  hand,  trembling  and  thin,  for  the  pen- 
cil. 

"  Fontneroy,  I  beg  you  will  not  do  this,"  j 
said  St.  Clair.  "  I  am  ]ust  as  fully  convinced 
now  that  your  heart  is  right  toward  me  as  if 
1  now  saw  your  signature  to  this  paper.  Let 
the  past  go." 

"No— no, 
must  do  it. 
the  pencil." 

Reluctantly  the  other  obeyed. 

Taking  the  pencil  between  his  stiffening 
fingers,  Fontneroy  wrote,  in  characters  al- 
most illegible,  his  full  name. 

"There.    I  am  satisfied  now.    This  is  not  a 
sudden  freak  on  my  part,  St.   Clair.    It  has 
been  long   on  my  mir  -      " 
don't  you?" 

There  was  something 
the  tone. 

St.  Clair  put  his  hand  up  and  brushed  away 
something  which  looked  very  like  a  tear. 

"  I  do  believe  you,"  he  said.  "  I  beliera  you 


You  believe  me. 


pousibly  sad  i 


y  \ 


24 


THE  WARSLIBRARY 


<. 


lully,  and  1  have  iio  words  with  whioU  to 
speak  of  this  last  act  of  yours.  Be  sure  that 
if  any  deed  of  yours  has  clouded  luy  happi- 
uess  ttie  cloud  will  ever  hereafter  be  like  that 
in  yonder  ekv,  at  this  moment  lighted  up  by 
the  sim'a  last  rays.  Do  you  seeit?  Leime 
lift  y.iii  higher. •■• 

Sr.  (  lair  raised  his  old-time  foe  to  a  sitting 
posture,  and  turned  him   toward   the  fading 

"  Only  one  thing  more  do  I  crave,  my 
frieiui.  Ah!  It  seems  like  days  gone  by  to 
call  you  friend.  Would  to  Heaven  that  time 
could  come  again!" 

•'  What  more  oau  I  do  for  you  ?  Speak  free- 
ly, Foiitneroy." 

•'  It  is  beyond  your  power  to  comply  with 
this  wish,  I  fear.  It  is  of  Laura  Doane  I  was 
thinkiiiir.  It  may  be — nay,  I  know  it  is  true 
—that  I  have  done  oruel  things  to  her.  I 
think  I  have  been  almost  beside  myself  of 
late.  If  I  could  hear  her  say  she  had  no  ill- 
feeling  toward  me " 

"  YcMir  request  may  be  granted.  I  left  her 
with  two  friends  not  far  away  a  short  time 
ago.  If  you  will  wail,  I  will  see  if  they  can 
be  found.  • 

The  oQieer  set  his  teeth  hard  together. 

"Go!"  he  said. 

Hastening  away  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  St. 
Clair  soon  discovered  Laura  with  Phil  La- 
raoute  and  Molly,  standing  upon  a  knoll, 
looking  over  the  field  of  carnage. 

Returning  with  them  quickly  he  said,  as 
he  gently  took  llie  dying  man's  head  once 
more  in  his  arms : 

'•  She    is    here.    Fontnerny.     Can    you  see 

"Faintly.    The  daylight  is'going.  It  brings 


heart  hurt  you  cruelly.  Forgive  me!  Can 
you?    Si)eak  quiok!" 

"  I  do,"  said  the  girl  (irmly,  her  cheeks 
pale  as  ashes. 

"That's  all.  Highei,  St.  Clair!  Raise  me 
up." 

The  Unionist  obeyed. 

Theie  was  a  gasp  and  a  shudder. 

That  was  the  end. 

Breaking  through  theelouds,  the  sun  light- 
ed up  with  a  sudden  splendor  the  dome  of 
theSoutnern  sky.  For  a  moment  it  lin- 
gered. 

Then  the  golden  rays  died  out. 

It  was  night. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

«ATHERINQ   UP  TEE  THREAD,S. 

Three  years  afterward. 

War  hasgiveu  place  to  silver-winged  peace. 

We  gather  up  the  threads  of  our  story  at  a 
time  when  the  North,  though  jubilant  with 
the  victory  it  has  won.  is,  nevertheless,  sad 
with  weeping  for  the  brave  boys  inblue  who 
laid  down  their  lives  under  the  Southern 
pines,  and  when  the  South,  conscious  of  de- 
feat, crushing  and  complete,  also  mourns 
day  and  night  for  the  dear  ones  it,  too,  has 
lost. 

Phil  Lamonte  and  Arthur  St.  Clair  were 
both  niatle  recipients  of  the  highest  honors 
from  general  (irant,  who  did  not  forget  the 
work  they  did  at  Pittsburg  Landing,  nor  his 
promise  made  to  the  former  after  the  battle 
was  over. 

Many  a  time  when  the  leader  was  in  need 
of  a  reliable  scout  he  sent  for  Phil  and  made 
his  wishes  known. 

Laying  off  the  epaulets  and  sheathing  his 
sword,  the  young  man  donned  the  garb  of  a 
<tommou  soldier,  or,  perhaps,  if  necessity  de- 
manded, assumed  the  attire  of  a  private 
citizen. 

He  followed  the  fortunes  of  his  superior 
officer  till  the  last  gun  was  tired  and  the 
sword  slung  upon  the  wall,  let  it  be  hoped, 
never  to  be  stained  by  the  blood  of  oivil 
strife. 

The  laurels  he  won  were  many,  but  they 
were  shared  with  his  gallant  soldier-in-arms, 
St.  Clair. 

The  home  of  Laura  and  Molly  became  the 
asylum  for  men  of  both  parties  in  need  of 
comfort. 

CJuion.  Confederate  or  colored  refugees 
lound  shelter  beneath  the  roof  of  the  grand 
old  mansion,  and  not  unfrequently  soldiers 
from  botii  ai'iuies  visitet'  there. 

And  no  on.-saiil  iniv- 

Molly,  stanch  little  imtriot  as  she  was,  of- 
ten argued  wi!h  liw  stately  <!Ousiu  that  it 
was  wrong  for  her  to  aid  and  abet  the  I'ebel- 
liou  by  i^aring  for  the  troops  engaged  there- 
in. 

Laura,  in  turn,  retorted  that  she  con- 
sidered Biok  and  suffering  soldiers  who  wore 
the  gray  just  as  worthy  of  assistance  as  those 


clad 


blue,   and  perhaps 


Anyway,  it  was  not  the  common  soldier 
who  was  to  blame;  ttieleaders  ut-re  at  fault, 
if  fault  there  was. 

So  Molly  kept  on  I'liiing  for  tlio.se  from  the 
North,  and  Laura,  1,-nt  .1  kind  hand  to  the 
friends  on  the  other  side. 

Som-'tiiues  they  worked  together  without 
ii  word  of  reluctance. 

Who  shall  say  how  far  they  were  wrong  in 
this? 

Mine  shall  not  be  thcjien  to  write  aught  of 
censure  to  either. 

The  great  struggle  is  over. 

Men  erred  on  uiie  side  as  well  as  on  the 
other. 

Oue  day  there  rode  to  the  door  of  the 
Doane  mansion  a  man  bronzed  with  the  sun 
and  heavily  covered  with  the  dust  of  travel, 
and  it  was  envy  to  recognize  the  handsome 
face  of  Phil  Lamonte. 

There  tripped  to  meet  him  a  maiden,  whose 
blushing  cheek  and  laughing  eye  bespokr  the 
joy  she  felt  at  meeting  this  bearded  soldier. 

"At  last!" 

The  voice  was  Phil's. 

"  Tou  have  come  to  stay?    Tell   lue  that." 

•'  That  depends." 

••  U|  01.  what?" 

"  Yini,  little  treasure.  I  have  come  to  ask 
nin-ther  you  care  for  me  to  stay  or  not." 

"  I  care :  Phil  Lamonte,  yon  know  I  care. 
Yoii  arc  a   pretty  fellow   to   ask   me  such  a 

"I  thought— that  is— I  never  have  heard 
you  Hay  that  you  love  me." 

"Well,  hear  it,  then.  Truly,  truly  I  do 
care  for  yon  more  than  for  any  oue  else  in 
the  world !  " 

"There's  1  ertain  sound  about  that,  any- 
way, '  said  Phil,  laughing  at  the  girl's  earn- 
estness. ■■  l;nt  it  s  liit;lily  satisfactory  tome, 
lassuieyoii;  and  let  ine  tell  ynn,  little  one, 
that  all  thp  love  yon  can  wish  is  yours.  My 
heart  has  loved  yon,  and  you  only." 

Bending  down,  he  kissed  her  tenderly  up- 
on the  lips. 

A  footstep  aroused  them. 

"  Isn't  this  rather  too  public  a  place  for 
such  demonstrations?  I  am  inclined  to  ob- 
je<t  upon  the  ground  that  the  effect  will  be 
demoralizing.  " 

"St.  Clair,  old  fellow,  you  here?"  ex- 
claimed Phil,  heartily,  as  he  saw  his  chum 
come  round  a  splendid  shrub,  bearing  the 
beautiful  Laura  upon  his  arm. 

"Ofcour.se  Why  not  I  as  well  as  yon? 
The  day  of  surprises  is  not  over  yet,  I  fancy.  " 

"So  it  seems.  St.  Clair,  let  me  give  you  tin- 
pleasure  of  shaking  hands  with  my  futniv 
wife." 

"It  is  indeed  with  pleasure  1  accept  Ibis 
invitation."  answered  St.  Clair,  coming  for- 
ward. "I  am  made  happier,  however,  iiy 
being  able  to  reciprocate.  Allow  me  to  pre- 
sent the  lady  who  is  to  bear  my  name  in  the 
near  future." 

There  were  general  congratulations,  iind  a 
happy  time  followed. 

Rapidly  must  we  nass  to  the  end  of  our 
story. 

Phil  Lamonte  took  his  bride  away  to  the 
old  ancestral  homestead  near  Corinth  not 
long  after  the  war  closed. 

Needless  is  it  to  say  that  theirs  was  a  hap- 
py home. 

St.  Clair  disposed  of  the  Fortneroy  prop- 
erty in  Arthur  Highlands,  and  went  to  the 
Doane  plantation,  becoming  one  of  the  most 
wealthy  men  of  the  vicinity. 

The  shadow  which  had  darkened  his  past 
life  rolled  away,  leaving  the  sky  all  the 
brighter  for  the  storms  it  brought  with  it. 

Towai  d  1 1 lose  of  a  rainy  day  in  autumn 

theic  canii- to  iho  Lamonte"  mansion  a  man 
wrelcliedly  ilad,  prematurely  bowed  and 
old  before'  his  lime. 

Knocking  at  the  door  he  begged  for  some 
bread. 

When  his  hunger  had  beeu  appeased  he  re- 
quested the  maid  to  call  her  mistress,  saying 
that  an  old  :ic<|uaiiitaiiice   wanted   to  speak 

.Soniewlmt  surprised  by  this  request  Molly, 
however,  came  down  to  meet  her  visitor. 

For  a  moment  she  saw  nothing  to  recog- 
nize in  the  unkempt  and  broken-down  man, 
who  rose  with  a  show  of  politeness  to  greet 
her. 

The  stranger  saw  this  and  said: 

"  I  see  you  don  t  leiiu-mb.-r  no-,  and  I  don't 
wonder  at  it ;  foi- 1  iiiii  ;ill  iisid  up- a  mere 
shadowof  what  I  on.,-  wa^,' 

The  voice  broughi  back  to  Molly  the  name 
of  its  owner. 

"Mr.  Oglethorpe,  can  it  be?  Why  what 
has  happened  to  you  ?  You  are  so  changed 
no  one  would  have  recognized  you." 

"  Evil  has  befallen  me.    I  am  no  longer  the 


self." 

"Say  not  so,"  said  Molly,  in  pity,  looking 
:  upon  the  dirty  creature  bowing  before  her. 
"There  is  always  a  chance  for  mending.  What 
can  y<Mi  do?'' 

Pel  hapsit  was  fancy,  but  the  kiud  licaK.il 
Molly  imagined  that  even  there  could  b.- 
seen  somelhiiigof  a  prouder beariuj;  in  Ogle- 
thorpe, and  he  seemed  more  manly. 

"Do!  I  can  do  anything  I  ever  could  if  1 
had  a  chance,  and  could  feel  my  work  ap- 
preciated. That's  the  great  trouble.  Noone 
cares  for  me;  no  one  believes  in  me." 

"How  did  you  come  in  this  way.  What 
happened  lo  you?" 

An  expressi(m,  almost  vindictive  in  its  nat- 
ure, swept  over  the  man's  face. 

"Ithiukitnll  grew  out  of  a  thing  that 
Confederate  colonel,  Fontneroy,  did.  I  waa 
fool  enough  to  trust  him.  He  pretended 
that  he  wanted  me  to  do  some  work  for  him 
as  a  messenger.  He  betrayed  me  into  the 
hands  of  General  Beauregard.  I  was  arrest- 
ed and  imprisoned  as  a  spy.  Barely  did  l'* 
escajie  death.  In  the  night  I  found  my  way 
out  of  the  cell  in  which  I  was  shut  up.  Since 
then  I  have  almost  hated  everyone.  It  has 
been  a  curse  to  my  existence.  I  think  if  1 
could  be  somewhere  where  I  could  forget 
the  past  I  might  become  a  man  again." 

Molly's  face  was  grave. 

"  I  will  speak  with  my  husband  about  it. 
We  may  be  able  to  do  something  for  you." 

A  cloud  settled  over  Oglethorpe's  face,  as 
the  gill  spoke  of  her  husband.  It  cut  him  to 
the  quick  to  think  what  he  had  lost. 

Molly  was  true  to  her  word;  aud  Phil,  as 
iinxions  as  she    herself    to    give    the  man  a 
self,  placed    him   in 


if  b 


nds. 


nfliience  of  that  happy 
.-med  to  outgrow  his  old 
lie  ever  would;  it  was 
lie  became  a  respectable 


evil  iiatnie.  Boast 
I'liaracteristic.  Bu 
citizen. 

The  war  over,  the  genial  hand  of  prosper- 
ity began  to  touch  the  South  with  her  wand, 
iuid  places  laid  waste  by  the  devastation  of 
battle  once  more  bloonied. 

[THE  END.  I 


Catalogue  of  The  War  Library. 

Ail  Earlier  Numbers  in  Print. 


230  BATTERY   BOB;  or,  Crest  and 
Plain  at  Fredericksburg.    B»  '■•• • 

thony  P.  Morris.  / 

231  SIGNAL  SERVICE  SAM  ;or,Tho 

Slegeof  Knoxville.    ii.v  wani  iMward.i.'Sr 

•lli-h  Trivate."T.  S,  V 

232  THE  WAR  DETECTIVE;  or,  Se- 
cret Service  in  the  Rebellion.   A 

story  of  Booth's  Great  Con8|)ii-acy.    lly  Maj. 
A.  F.  Grant. 
233-PHIL,  THE  SCOUT  ;  or,  A  Fighrt 
for  Beauregard's  Dispatches.   A 


Sto 


l!y  Ciii: 


234  "  TO  HORSE  ;  "  or,  The  Winged 
Scout  of  Georgia.  Uy  .\iithony  P. 
Moi  lis.  [Ready  March.=;. 

235  LION-HEARTED  LUKE;  or.  The 
Plan  to  Capture  Mosby.  A  story 
of  Perilous  Adventure  in  the  War  ot  tha 
Uciielllon.  Uy  Ward  Edwards,  "  High  Pri. 
vatc,"  r.  S.  V.  ,  [Ready  March  12 

236  THE  SWORD  CHAMPIONS;  or 
Rival  Spies  of  Chancellorsville 
.\  story  of  the  Rati  les  in  the  Tbickets  of  th 
Riipiiahannock.    By  .Vnthony  P.  Morris. 

[Ready  March  V 

237  LOYALNED;or,TheLastCrui8 
of  the  Alabama.  A  Romance  of  tl 
Famous  Rebel  Privateer.  By  the  author  . 
■'  lief  ore  Pctcrsbiiry."  [Ready  March  :  i 

238  THE  RIVAL  CADETS;  or.  From 
West  Point  to  Battlefields.    A  Stir 

liny  Story  of  Advcntuie  in  the  Late  War 
Hj-  Ward  Edwards,  t".  S.  V.     [Ready  April 2, 


E  i»  iu  CI -a.  Xj      asiiiTioiw. 

Life  and  Military  Services  of 

GENERAL    U.    S.   GRANT,. 

liuHhlv  \umber,  J*ric€  90  •«Rf». 


